From Dawn to Dusk
by Xendell
Summary: When you wake up in a world where your existence is completely new, how do you see the world? Two souls find each other, and connect for eternity, but fate has other plans for them. Will love survive the process of exploration, learning morals and identity? This is the story of Caithe and Faolain, and the Firstborn, and how their destiny began.
1. Awakening

This story begins when the Pale Tree has just awakened her Firstborn. I've never written anything from Guild Wars before, so I hope you enjoy. :)_  
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_I remember when I came out of the pod. I remember the light hurting my eyes, my breathing still ragged and my muscles cramping, trying to recover. In my head the image of the dragon was still vivid. _

_As I stepped out of my pod, I first noticed the forest. It was alive - I could hear, even feel, all the living things, feel them breathe and crawl and grow. I saw the sun for the first time, and this time I truly felt it's warmth, and it was brighter than it had ever been in the Dream. My feet touched the grass, and then I heard my name being spoken. _

_I turned around, slowly, and looked up. Before me was the most beautiful being I had ever seen. Almost emitting light, flowing white leaves draping around her as if she was made from sunrays. I admired her._

_'I am the Pale Tree,' she said, and I listened, because I had heard her voice before, in the dream, in the deepest of dreams I had heard her. 'Welcome, Caithe.' _

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_

Twelve Sylvari were gathered in the Grove, exploring, getting to know this new world. It was busy. The Pale Tree needed all the care and love she could get, because the new pods needed nourishment and protection. They were still small, but Secondborn would come out eventually, it was just a matter of time. Caithe took up her share of the work diligently, and yet, something in her needed something more. She noticed she walked a little further out in the forest every time she went out to gather, or hunt. Every time she would go over another hill, to find out if she could see more of the horizon. Follow the path a little further, just a little bit..

And so the Sylvari worked, day by day, seeking shelter from the Pale Tree at night. They huddled close, but had yet to have real contact. It seemed as if the communication between all of them was still developing. They felt what was going on in each other's hearts, they were connected, but they rarely spoke of these things. Because they understood each other most of the time without speaking, daily things need not be voiced. When there was time for relaxing, they had fun, but those times were few and far between.

Caithe only truly spoke to the Pale Tree, whom she would visit each day, at dawn. She would inform her of how the Grove was progressing, but almost every time also could not resist to share her feelings with her. The things she had seen, she had discovered, the miracles of the forest, everything that fascinated her. The Pale Tree would smile, that beautiful light shimmering in her eyes, and explain the wonders of the world to Caithe. And with every little thing, she fuelled Caithe's curiosity.

.

It had been an early dawn that day, sunrays pierced the leaves at low angles, waking the sleeping Sylvari. Caithe felt a certain tension, but she wasn't sure if it was the air or her heart. She got up, and went to a small stream to wash her face. The cold water cooled her senses, but made her breath shiver. The forest seemed to beckon her, so many miles of unexplored land before her, but she turned around. Not even the temptations of the forest could keep her from visiting her Mother. She ascended into the protected chambers of the Pale Tree, as she did every morning.

'Good morning, Mother.' Caithe looked around. The Pale tree was lounging in a corner, draped beautifully on her altar of leaves and tree bark, looking more like a goddess than ever.

'Ah, Caithe,' she said, her voice soft. She sounded vaguely amused. 'Honestly, you should not be here. I need to rest, and there is a forest waiting for you.' Caithe was slightly taken aback by this. Usually the Tree would not be so direct. 'Do you not wish to talk to me, Mother?'

She smiled again, her beautiful smile, so pure, without any malice. And this time Caithe was sure she could hear her chuckle under her breath. 'That's not it, Caithe. You just have better things to do, trust me.' Though in utter confusion still, Caithe nodded and took her leave. As she descended back into the Grove, the realization struck her how Mother Tree had basically given her free roam to go and seek out this unknown world. Without noticing, she smiled, getting excited with the mere thought of it. She geared up and ran out into the forest, telling no one where she went. She trusted her own capabilities and her sharp daggers, her inner compass to keep her safe. Running, she was finally free.

If she had ever found the forest fascinating before, then this was a whole other world. There were creatures she had never been able to imagine, creatures larger than herself, towering over her, or so small she could barely see them. She saw the large spider webs of the forest spiders, inspected the nests of the devourers - and with every thing she learned, she grew hungrier for more.

.

Twilight had already set in when she started, reluctantly, heading back towards the Grove. She had been walking all day, and would not make it back before the night was over, she knew as much. Today, she had been able to reach the edge of the forest, and look out over the plains, at the mountains, still so very far away. The sight had made her mouth run dry, she was so amazed by the vast expanses of land before her. For the first time she realized how large the world she had stepped into was. It would take a lifetime to see it all.

As she turned back into the woods, clouds began gathering above her head. A thunderstorm was coming. Her senses began to tingle, and she suddenly felt a little fearful - she was a long distance from the Grove, no directions given to anyone. No shelter in sight. There were creatures everywhere in these woods, and suddenly spending the night on unfamiliar terrain seemed like a very bad idea.

She quickened her step, hoping in the back of her mind she would have enough energy to make it back to the Grove, but already looking for other options around her. She would not make it back. It was too far. Then the rain started pouring, as if somebody had torn a hole in the sky. It fell down on her with force, icy cold and piercing. She felt vulnerable. She was vulnerable.

Scrambling to a large tree, with broad, dark green leaves, she tried to find a little shelter from the rain. She contemplated climbing in it, but didn't want to risk disturbing any creature that might live there. The tree was far too large and high to be safe, yet it was the only one providing any shelter from the rain. She shivered.. and for the first time, felt regret, and the fall that comes with pride. She had overestimated herself, gotten lost in the adventure.. The rain poured. The sound of large drops falling on the trees and bedding sounded like the rustling of a million leaves, drowned out all the sounds around her.

A dark shadow suddenly shifted between the trees. Caithe flinched, and sat up. She looked around but did not see the silhouette again. She was weary of potential attackers. Far away, she heard wolves, howling to their pack. After looking around again, she decided to climb into the tree after all. She put a foot on the first branch, then the second, testing if it would hold her weight.

From the corner of her eye she saw the shadow shift again, much closer now, but the form still blurry through the pouring rain. Caithe grabbed and steadied one dagger, while holding herself up in the tree with the other hand, staring at the place she had seen the shadow. Her heart was pounding in her throat. Suddenly, to her left, another shadow appeared, and behind her, another. Wildly she looked back and forth between the two, utterly confused as to what this thing was, and although she didn't want to admit it, she was terrified.

Suddenly, the form behind her dissolved. Wide-eyed, she turned back to the one on her left, to also find it gone. Her breathing was laboured, her hand shaking with tension and nerves. All her senses stood sharp, she felt like she heard and saw infinitely better than before the rain. She was afraid.

To her right, the shadow appeared again, in a much more solid form now, and started approaching slowly. Caithe shakily lowered her dagger as she recognized the form coming towards her.

The dark skin, a dark charcoal gray, and the glowing Mesmer dress. She knew this person, this Sylvari just like her. Yet she looked at her now as if she looked at her, truly looked at her, for the first time.

'You should come down from the tree. It's dangerous in this weather.'

Her voice. Her voice was soft like velvet, yet strong, Caithe had never heard this voice yet she knew it, she knew it from sleeping next to this voice, breathing in the same rhythm. She only now truly noticed the other Sylvari's face, so much more plant-like than her own, dark lines following her nose up to her forehead. The leaves of the Mesmer dress twirled elegantly around her, her presence unmistakable, as if it enveloped her surroundings like her dress did her body. Caithe wondered how she had not felt this interest for any other Sylvari before.

And then, she realized, that was what she truly wanted. She wanted to connect to this woman before her. Of all the things she had seen, and wanted to see, she mostly wanted to see this person. To see beyond her physical form, her spirit. To know what she was like. And she asked the question no Sylvari had asked one another yet.

'What is your name?'

The other smiled._ Like the Pale Tree_, Caithe thought, _yet different. Her smile is heavily loaded with emotion, while Mother smiles lightly._

'My name is Faolain.'

Caithe opened her mouth to answer, anything, she was not sure what she would have answered if nature had not interrupted her. Suddenly she heard Faolain scream and then she felt the impact. Lightning struck the very tree she was hanging in, and set the top on fire immediately. Caithe had not even noticed letting go, but she felt herself being pulled back up on her feet - and for a moment Faolain was close, so very close to her. Faolain's hand was warm around her own and they ran together. The burning tree began to sigh and creak under its own dead weight. The heavily damaged trunk began to break and the women ran as fast as they could, but they heard the tree falling. And when Caithe dared look back, she saw it falling towards them.

'Faolain! The tree!' She exclaimed, the pure horror in her voice almost tangible. Faolain looked over her shoulder with wide eyes.

'Hold on!' Caithe grabbed Faolain's waist, her fingers around the soft body, and suddenly they were nothing, floating in shadow, dark clouds without gravity, and the next moment they felt their feet touch ground again. Almost stumbling, Faolain kept her momentum by holding on to Caithe. The tree fell down behind them, and the shockwave threw them both off their feet. They rolled against an old fallen trunk, which had large, protective roots standing up from the ground.

When they both had caught their breath, Caithe's mind idly noted she was still holding Faolain close. For now, she held her, letting go being too much of a hassle. Faolain's voice was soft, and slightly breathy, when she spoke again.

'Neat trick. Was it teleportation?' Caithe nodded slowly.

'Hmm. I'm a thief.'

'You're good.' She looked at Faolain's face. Amber eyes that contrasted sharply with her dark skin looked back at her. She saw her own curiosity mirrored in those eyes now.

'What is your name?' Faolain asked. Caithe was silent for a moment. Suddenly the simple asking of a name seemed like such an intimate thing to do. She treasured the warmth she felt spreading through her chest.

'My name is Caithe.'

They did not have to look at each other to understand what they were feeling. Through their connection, they already knew.


	2. The Clearing

It took more than a night and a day for the rain to stop. Caithe and Faolain had decided to wait it out, making a makeshift shelter out of their fallen tree. A few broad, leathery leaves kept the water out for the most part, and they crawled away into the relative safety of their little burrow. When Caithe opened her eyes from her light sleep, Faolain was comfortably rested against her, cheek on her shoulder, sleeping peacefully. For some reason, Caithe also felt safer. The sky was crackling with electricity and flashing every so often, but she felt not quite as vulnerable anymore. A light smile on her face, she pulled Faolain closer, and closed her hand around the Mesmer's.

In the next few hours the rain started to fade away. It was late in the afternoon, but the sun had been breaking through the clouds and warmed the grounds a little. When the clouds disappeared, it had quickly begun the warm to tropical temperatures again. Caithe rose from the burrow, looking around. Faolain had gotten up already and was nowhere in sight. The forest felt brighter, as if all the water had intensified the colours of the plants.

Caithe quickly picked a few berries from nearby bushes, and walked over to the place she had been a day before. The tree she had climbed had fallen over completely. Only a burnt piece of trunk, about her own height, was still rooted to the ground, but the rest of the metres long tree lied splayed before her, the top charred and black. Ashes were spread around the trunk.

She ran her hand over the charred tree. The idea of death fascinated Caithe. The fact that a being could exist, and then suddenly stop existing the next moment - she had never thought of that. She contemplated asking the Pale Tree about it, but at the same time wasn't sure if she really wanted to know. The idea of losing existence, or watching something, someone else lose it's existence filled her stomach with an icy feeling.

'You are troubled.' A hand was placed gently on her shoulder. She had not heard Faolain approaching, lost in thought as she had been, but the other must have sensed her unease. The sound of Faolain's voice already soothed Caithe. She smiled at her.

'It's nothing.' Caithe turned around to look at the other. She looked different now, in this bright light. 'Where have you been?'

'Somewhere amazing. Come, I must show you!' Faolain answered, excited. She grabbed Caithe's hand and lead her away from the tree. Caithe looked over her shoulder quickly, but left her troubles with the dead tree and joined Faolain in her quickened step. Adopting the other's excitement and feeling the sense of adventure awaken again was a refreshment after all this time of doing nothing.

.

The creature was gigantic. It was four legged and covered in tree bark with gigantic antlers and just plain _huge. _ Faolain had taken them to a open place in the forest, where a small river came out into a small lake. It was beautiful, colourful flowers grew in the riverbed and at the lake, and the clearing was full of life. Fireflies drifted lazily over the water, making everything sparkle. But this creature. Was. Gigantic.

It had turned its enormous head towards them, a low roar coming out of its throat. Caithe instinctively grabbed her weapons, but Faolain pushed her arms down.

'Put your weapons away, Caithe. He's friendly.' Caithe looked at her as if the other had gone mad, and Faolain shook her head.

'Look at him, Caithe. He is one with the forest, just like us.' She walked forward, toward the beast's head. She lifted her hands above her head, and reached out for the creature, lightly touched his forehead, stroking him. The creature groaned, and closed its eyes. She stood there silently for a moment, a tiny woman next to the massive animal.

'I heard stories about these creatures,' Faolain said, while gesturing Caithe to come forward. 'They are called "Oakheart" '. Caithe took a slow step forward, still on the tips of her toes, ready for an attack. However when she watched the creature enjoy Faolain's gentle touch, she also slowly began to relax her own shoulders. This creature truly was friendly.

'Oakheart is a good name for him.' She decided. As she stood next to the other Sylvari, she looked up at the Oakheart. It was towering over her, with closed eyes, and seemed to nudge Faolain's hands for more touches. She lifted her own hands as well and slowly petted the beast's neck. It felt hard and woodlike, like a tree, but it was also warm, and pulsing, like something living. The creature moved closer to give her more room to touch, and truly seemed to be enjoying itself now. After a short moment, it even decided to lie down, utterly relaxed by all this friendly attention. Faolain chuckled.

'Look at you. The great Caithe, marvellous fighter, felled a giant Oakheart - without even using a weapon.' Caithe felt her cheeks heat up and looked away. She did not know what to say, so she just kept petting the Oakheart.

'What a story to tell the Pale Tree.' Faolain turned away from Caithe for a moment. 'What else do you think the world will bring us, Caithe?'

'I don't know,' Caithe answered truthfully, 'but I'm sure there are things there beyond our imagination. Such as... a land that is as cold as it is warm here?' She looked at Faolain from where she sat kneeled next to the Oakheart. Faolain twirled around where she stood, a look of disbelief on her face.

'Surely not! What could possibly live there?' Caithe thought about that. She thought about the conversation, as well. It was new to her to discuss things with another person. The Pale Tree had always listened, yes, and explained whatever she could... but never had Caithe heard before that what she said wasn't right. A cold place did seem unlikely to have inhabitants, then again, the world around her was miraculous enough to have something in store for it. Caithe felt like she had barely seen anything yet, in all the time she had spent exploring by herself.

'I'm sure there is something that lives there.' She answered, finally. Faolain also seemed uncomfortable with being corrected. It made Caithe feel more at ease to know she was not the only one. The veil that hung over Faolain's spirit had been lifted a tiny bit, and Caithe felt like she could peek in a little bit now. She desperately wanted to tear off the veil and know everything, but she knew she couldn't. Knowing the world was one thing, but knowing Faolain - knowing Faolain was of a whole other order.

.

Suddenly the world shook. The Oakheart's eyes snapped open, and the beast stood up quickly. It turned around just in time to face off with an enormous devourer that came into the clearing. The devourer stood as tall as the Oakheart, twin stingers at the ready. The Oakheart growled low in its throat, knocking the Sylvari back with its hind legs. Tangled and confused, Caithe tried to scramble off Faolain and look at what was happening. The devourer had already attacked the Oakheart, and the once silent clearing now was filled with screeches and grunts and sounds of claws scraping and jaws clenching.

'Caithe, we have to go, we cannot fight this beast!' Faolain's voice was barely audible over the sound of battle.

'But the Oakheart! We cannot leave him here! What if he-' she was pulled away by Faolain. 'We cannot fight that devourer, Caithe! Look at the size of that thing!'

'Faolain!' Caithe retorted, struggling with all her might against the other. 'He will die!' The devourer stopped screeching for a moment to scan the clearing. It had spotted the two arguing Sylvari, and did not mind an easy meal. Not one bit.

The Sylvari realized it at the same time. They turned their heads, both looking at the approaching devourer, and with a frightened gasp both rolled in different directions, immediately starting the attack. Caithe flashed over the clearing, travelling in shadows, and came up behind the devourer to slash at its stingers. The beast turned and smacked her away with a giant pincer.

The Oakheart charged in again, but the devourer evaded - and went straight for Faolain. She had been behind the oakheart, firing her magic from a distance, and now seemed desperate for a way out. She rolled to the side, ran to the side of the devourer, swift as the wind. Teleporting between its paws to get to its back, she kept firing at the thing. Caithe thought she'd heard her call out 'Now look what you did, you-' but she might have imagined it. It was the heat of battle, after all.

The devourer was strong, but it was three-on-one and it was getting tired from being hit from all sides. It screeched loudly, then suddenly moved back, knocking Faolain over in the process. She was pinned for a moment, and that was when the beast swung both its stingers down.

Caithe cried out, and ran towards Faolain. She used the devourer's head as leverage to jump, and cut one of the stingers off in her air attack. The devourer screeched in pain and spasmed, swinging its other stinger uncontrollably. Caithe had to move back, lithe and agile she slalomed around the stinger, back to relative safety. Then the ground lit up purple, a massive signet appearing around the devourer. Caithe saw Faolain from the corner of her eye, her fingertips emitting purple light, which was reflected in her eyes. The devourer screeched and howled in pain when it broke through its own legs, as if being pushed down from above by a massive force. Another screech split the air, and the Oakheart crushed the devourer's head with its massive paws.

.

It was silent once again. Caithe heard her own ragged breathing first, then a soft _thud_ a short distance away from her. Faolain had dropped to her knees, holding her shoulder with one hand. Caithe came over to her quickly.

'What's -' she started, but when she came closer, her mouth went dry. Faolain had a gaping wound in her shoulder, purple liquid seeping out of it and over the hand she was holding it with. Her voice was shaky when she spoke. From the severed stinger, a few feet away, seeped the same purple liquid.

'Caithe,' she breathed, obviously in pain. Caithe sat by her, and tried to clear out the wound. 'It's poison.'

'I can see that,' the other snapped back. Faolain huffed and looked away, trying to keep from grimacing as Caithe tried to clear the wound with whatever she could find. Slowly, the Oakheart approached, glanced at Faolain once, then stepped over them both, walking away towards the forest.

'It knows you wanted to abandon him.' Caithe muttered under her breath. Faolain caught it, though, and sat up as she spat back, 'I should have! Then this,' she nodded at her shoulder, 'need not have happened.'

'Just sit still.' Caithe bit her lip. She knew she should have trusted Faolain, they had won with a lot of luck involved. Was it worth this sacrifice? Had it been worth getting away unharmed, but leaving the Oakheart in danger? Suddenly she felt a hand on her chest.

'Enough, Caithe. It did not hurt you anywhere, did it?' Caithe looked at her tattered armor.

'No. But I could use a fix-up.'

'We should head back.' Caithe thought for a moment.

'What about the poison?' Faolain cringed as she stood up. Pained, she started walking.

'There's nothing we can do. We'll see how far we get.'


	3. The White City

'I'm telling you, John, there are strange things happening in these forests.' Two men, marching in perfect synchronization, shining armor and white robes, patrolled along a forest path. 'Ever since these Asura gates opened, all kinds of people have been coming to Divinity's Reach.'

John stroked his short beard and thought about this. He had been a Seraph Guard for nearly two decades, and fought many a battle - especially with the Tamini Centaurs. The ongoing fight had left its scars on him, and he couldn't say he had not seen a large part of Kryta. So he stroked his beard and thought.

'Well, Falke,' he slowly addressed his patrolling partner for the night, 'I cannot say I agree with you. In all my serving years that I've patrolled around the city, I've never seen anything strange. You should go to the Hinterlands sometime, then you'll see real madness. Those centaurs..'

'Not the centaurs again, John!' Falke interrupted. John quickly shut his mouth. He had indeed told many a tale about centaurs, including the one he had been about to tell. Many times.

'No, John, I'm seriously telling you,' Falke started again, gesturing broadly with both his hands, 'strange things are happening here. Stranger than centaurs.' Their armored boots creaked on the gravel path.

'Stranger than centaurs, you say?' The sun was high. The two men walked, a relaxed march on the not too cold day.

'Stranger than centaurs, John.' It fell silent again. They walked.

'Not much going on today, is there, Falke? Not even bandits.'

'Not even bandits, John. They must be up to something.' Had they not been at work, they might have stuck their hands in their pockets and whistled. It was definitely an easy day.

'Centaurs are bandits, Falke,' John began, and Falke sighed. 'Really, John, really?'

'They are the bandits of our lands. You are young, Falke, and you would do good to remember that well-'

'Wait!' Falke suddenly tensed, and drew his sword. He pointed at the bushes. 'That tree just moved!'

John laughed condescendingly, but drew his sword. He looked over to where Falke was pointing, and saw nothing but an oddly shaped bush quivering slightly in the wind. Except that there was no wind. And then the bush looked up to reveal a white face, that looked back at him, with a shocked expression.

'By the gods, I have never...!'

.

They had travelled all day, Caithe restlessly moving back and forth between scouting ahead and checking on Faolain.

'Caithe, are you sure this is the right direction?' Faolain asked, breathy. She walked in a fast pace, but clutched her shoulder. Her normally dark, charcoal skin looked dull and slightly grey.

'No, but this is the most interesting one. Have you seen the change in environment, Faolain? It's so wonderful, I think we might be out of the forest soon. Who knows what will wait there!' Caithe tried to keep her enthusiasm under control, and felt bad for even being enthusiastic when she saw the other Sylvari's face. She ran back to her, and gently held her.

'Maybe you should rest for a while..' Faolain bit her lip, and looked around.

'I'm not sure how much good that would do me now, Caithe,' she lifted her hand for a moment to look at the festering wound, 'I need to get rid of that poison.' Her words lingered for a moment, and neither knew what to say.

'Come on, Faolain. We will find something.' Caithe wrapped her arm around the other, a slight pang of guilt in her stomach that she had not helped her earlier. It had been her idea to fight the devourer, after all. Still, she shook off the thought and focused on going forward.

And so they walked, intrigued by everything around them but not able to focus completely. By noon, Faolain was staring at her feet while walking, breathing hard and paler than ever. Caithe had not even noticed the forest thinning out and the path parallel to their route, not more than 20 metres away. She was holding Faolain now, almost her entire weight in her arms, struggling to keep her moving. A cold feeling spread through her stomach when she saw how pale and feverish the other was. Suddenly Faolain looked up at her, clutched Caithe's shoulders weakly, and muttered something inaudible. Then her feet gave way and Caithe noticed a fraction of a second too late that she was holding Faolain's entire weight now, and shakily slumped down with her, though still breaking her fall. She tried to get up, frantically looked around, back at Faolain, who was unmoving on the ground, and then she heard voices.

Heavy footsteps, not too far away. Two people talking. She stood still, pinned with fear, not daring to move her head. Then, the voices changed, and the footsteps stopped. Caithe looked up, at two faces, matching her expression.

.

'Where did you say you were from, miss?' The two Seraph guards had put away their swords, and stood there asking questions and tapping their feet. One looked amazed, the other seemed to think it was all a big joke. Caithe tried to explain things to them, but they kept interrupting with their seemingly pointless questions.

'The Grove! It can't be too far from here,' she said, exasperated, trying to gesture at her fallen comrade, 'but I really need-'

'Yeah, miss, calm down now,' one of the men interrupted, 'we will get you to our chief and then we can get you what you need, okay?' The man bent towards his partner and whispered, 'there's nothing strange here, Falke, just a treehugger gone mad.' Falke just shrugged and muttered 'if my wife could see this...'

'I'm not a - what did you call me?' Caithe asked, thoroughly confused. 'What good comes from hugging a tree?' The men snorted.

'Y'tell me, lassie. I've never heard of this Grove, either. Where is it?' Caithe began to point again.

'It's in this direction, but that's not-'

'Ah yeah. Is it a magical wonderland of unicorns and walking trees, miss?'

'No, please, you don't understand,' Caithe pleaded, 'my love, she got wounded and-'

'Your _love_?' Asked one of the men, and the other added, unbelieving, '_She?'_

'It's terrifying how easily distracted you two are! ' Caithe called out, shivering now, her eyes on the verge of tears. How difficult could it be to explain something to these men?

'There was a giant devourer, and-' Suddenly the one of the men's faces softened, and he grabbed a bottle of water from his belt. Using his most fatherly face and voice, he handed it to Caithe.

'Calm now, lassie. We're not out to hurt you. Drink something, then tell us where your lovey-dovey is.'

.

Falke handed out his waterbottle to the confused woman. It must be hard for a young woman to live in these times of war. He had seen a few already, young unmarried women with nothing to do except fearing each day. They went crazy so easily, breakable like twigs. He had not quite seen this kind of lunatic before, but he guessed every personality had its own unique _way out_. What covering oneself in leaves and treebark and odd marks had to solve, he had not quite figured out yet. But he was not a lunatic. Yet.

The exasperated woman took the water bottle, nodding in gratitude, and immediately bowed down and picked up an old branch in her arms and cradled it. She uncorked the bottle with her teeth and then carefully pretended to let the branch drink. Falke looked at the sky, not sure if looking at such a sad display was really the noble thing to do. He heard coughing and looked back, his eyes growing wide. He faintly heard John's voice next to him.

'By the gods..' The old branch was not an old branch. And even if it was, it was moving and coughing and it had _hands_.

'There's _two of you_? John, could this -'

.

Caithe sighed, sitting on a soft bed of linen. Faolain was next to her, fast asleep. Her shoulder had been cleansed properly and bandaged, and she had been given an antidote. Caithe rested her head in her hands. This had been a trying day.

Somehow, seeing Faolain had triggered something in the two Seraph guards. They had whispered hastily to each other, and one of them ran while the other kneeled down and began to inquire about the wound. He had tried to clean it as much as he could, apologizing profusely to her and Faolain, and they had been trying to keep Faolain awake until the other guard returned with two other guards on horses.

They had been taken to the majestic city, white as snow, Divinity's Reach they had called it. It was magnificent. Caithe sat behind one horseback soldier, while the other horseback soldier held the half-unconscious Faolain in his lap, and the two guards that found them ran along.

Other soldiers in white, shining armor had questioned Caithe, in a serious way, not the mocking way the others had done, while they took Faolain away to be taken care of. Caithe had not liked being separated from her, but they would not let her go to her until she finished answering questions. And so she did.

The guards seemed genuinely interested, and wrote a full report on her. Then, they arranged for a room and told her everything would be alright. When she finally saw Faolain again, who already had regained a lot of colour in her face, she ultimately relaxed. The city was strange and big, and its people were tall and businesslike, but also friendly and generous.

At last, she fell back on the linen sheets, the feel of which was strange but not uncomfortable to her. She turned and stroked Faolain's cheek. Faolain smiled, eyes fluttering half open.

'Hush,' Caithe immediately whispered, 'you can sleep now. Tomorrow the sun will rise again, and we will see more fascinating things.' She nestled against the other as Faolain closed her eyes again.

.

Late that afternoon, two men finished their patrol after dealing with all the ruckus. It was still sunny, but slightly less warm.

'Y'know John,' Falke mused, 'I'd love to be a horseback guard someday. High rank, good pay.. yeah.' He looked at the other. 'Why did you never get promoted, John?'

John huffed agitatedly. '_Horses. _Wretched beasts. You know what they remind me of, Falke, they remind me of- '

'Of centaurs?' Falke supplied, a small smile around his lips.

'Of centaurs! I'm telling you, Falke, these creatures will be the end of me..' A long tirade, that Falke had heard at least a dozen times before, started. Enjoying the fresh spring breeze, the two men walked towards the horizon.


	4. Torn Up

A/N: And here's chapter four. :) How are you all holding out? Is it still interesting to read? Feedback and suggestions are welcome! Thank you in advance.

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It was still dark. Caithe turned and writhed in her sheets, head whipping from side to side. She was fast asleep, but her face was twisted into an expression of anguish. She was groaning, her closed eyes moving from side to side, unseeing. She turned, and bit the pillow, as if to hold in a scream. Her body arched and stretched, little droplets of sweat on her forehead.

In her head visions of terrible things were swimming. _Deserted paths, undefeatable enemies. A cold table. A friend lost. Pain. _

Tears streamed down her cheeks while she rolled over to her back again. _A forest. Blood splatter on the ground. Crying out where no one can hear you. A scalpel. Pain._

Faolain, next to her, cringed in her sleep. She curled up, trying to shield herself from the very same visions. Suddenly, their hands found each other, and they interlaced their fingers in an almost bruising grip.

_Darkness. Pain. _

_Yellow eyes towering over them. A knife._

_A sword, out of reach._

_Agony._

Faolain shot up, gasping for air as if she had been underwater. She quickly looked over to Caithe, still locked up in dreams. She tried to gently shake her awake, but her racing heart made her rougher than she'd liked. A stinging pain shot up her shoulder, which she ignored.

'Caithe! Caithe, wake up!' Caithe groaned again, reached out and found Faolain's arm, squeezing it tightly, as if she wanted to break it. Faolain jerked herself loose from the - frankly quite painful- grip and shook Caithe again, calling her name. Then she gritted her teeth and smacked Caithe hard across the face, making her eyes snap open. Caithe sat upright as well, eyes wide, a dazzled expression on her face.

'Caithe-' Faolain started, but stopped when Caithe whispered, more to herself than to the other, 'Something's not right.' Faolain just nodded. 'With the others.' Caithe whispered again, and Faolain looked at her hands.

'I felt it, I can still feel it,' Faolain weakly clutched her skin above her heart with her good hand. 'That terrible pain..' Caithe let out a shivery breath.

'I think we all did.' They looked at each other, both frightened and confused. When Caithe rested her head against Faolain's shoulder, and sought comfort in her presence, they felt a certain peace. A peace reflecting in the warmth of Faolain's hand on her hair, or the sound of her breath, or in the certainty that she was there. It was security, a sanctuary in her arms.

Miles away, a chained up Sylvari felt the same, a small spark of comfort growing into a speck of hope. For another however, it was already too late.

.

When Caithe woke up again, she heard birds chirping outside the window. Slowly, memories of the past day drowned out the blurry images of nightmares. She tensed her muscles a few times to get out of the cramped position she was in. She lifted her head from Faolain's chest and looked up at the other. Her love was staring in the distance, not asleep, but her mind was far away. Faolain's eyes were blank, but her lips curled down. She looked in between fear, sadness and anger. Caithe softly stroked the side of her face.

'Faolain?' she whispered, and the other immediately reacted. Her eyes turned down to Caithe's face, her mouth relaxed. 'Yes?' The other answered, more through their connection than through the soft, breathy sound she made. Caithe sighed, relieved.

'Did you sleep at all?' Faolain held her tighter. 'Yes. But it was a harsh night for the both of us, I think.'

'For all of us.' Caithe agreed. She nuzzled Faolain for a moment, then got up, and opened the wooden window shutters. The view was wonderful. The city lay beneath her, white and golden, built in a perfect circle. The fresh breeze streamed into the room and cleared their minds. She could hear the hustle of people in the streets. Merchants setting up their stalls and early customers bargaining with them. She inhaled the fresh air and leaned out the window, drinking in the sights.

Without a sound, Faolain had appeared behind her. She adjusted the bandages on her shoulder, and looked at her ripped dress. Sighing, she tore it off. It was broken, and useless now. She then joined Caithe at the windowsill.

'Beautiful, is it not?'

'Unlike anything I have ever seen.' Caithe idly rearranged the leaves on her shoulder. 'You took off your dress.'

'It is broken, torn beyond repair. I will grow a new one.' Faolain smiled. 'It will take a few days.' She had rearranged other leaves in the telltale bell shape already, but it was lacking something. Caithe opened her mouth to say something, but a knock on the door interrupted her. A shrill, high voice called from outside.

'M'lord? M'lady?' Caithe and Faolain looked at each other, unsure of what to do. After a moment of silence, the woman knocked again.

'M'lord? Are you awake?' Faolain settled herself on her the bed. 'Does she mean us?' Caithe shrugged, holding the windowsill, for lack of having anything better to do with her hands. Unsure, Faolain called out to the woman.

'Uh.. come in? If you would like to?' The door swung open, and a plump, short lady walked in, immediately smiling and chattering about how she knew they were awake and figured she had heard them talk and -

Suddenly she dropped the bundle of clothing she had been holding with a startled 'Goodness, m'lady!' which startled both the Sylvari in return. She ran over to Faolain and grabbed the covers, wrapping the Sylvari in them. 'Completely undressed before m'lord, m'lady I did not think, you two are not even wed yet, they should not have-' Faolain squeaked awkwardly, very uncomfortable with the sudden close contact. Caithe turned around, an apologetic expression on her face.

'Ah, ma'am, I think there has been a misunderstanding,' she started, and the girl stared at her, jaw dropped. 'Ah.. _you_ are m'lady?' Faolain's deadly glare suddenly changed into an amused laugh.

'We are _both_ ladies, madam.'

.

This seemed to calm down the woman quite a lot, though it was still unacceptable to her that Queen Jenna's guests were in such a state of undress. Neither Caithe nor Faolain really understood why, but they were guests and would adapt to the customs of the host, if necessary. Apparently this included covering up.

The plump, energetic woman assured them she would fix the problem and told them not to leave the room, 'Under any circumstances! Just imagine the scandal if anyone... well.. just stay put, please, m'ladies!' It felt like Caithe and Faolain barely had a chance to talk this event over when she returned, a whole crew of seamstresses and tailors in tow. She assigned them all a corner of the room and started to organize and lay out the fabrics. Caithe stayed at the window, smiling but nervously eying the bolts of fabric.

Faolain walked up to the woman and gazed at the fabrics, slid her finger over them, feeling the different textures of the cloth. Her eyes grew wide in wonder as she touched a silk, so smooth that it slid through her fingers like water.

'What is this, madam?' she asked. The woman smiled widely, pleased that at least one of her queen's guests took an interest in fashion. 'You have excellent taste, m'lady. This is the finest silk in Kryta, imported especially for Queen Jenna herself. The lady queen only wears light colours however, so I was allowed to offer these darker colours to her guests..' she trailed off, talking about how the fabrics were dyed and the last batch had been too dark for the queen. Faolain held the fabric in her hands, let it slide through her fingers, and wrapped it loosely around her hands, looking at it from all sides.

'It's beautiful,' she sighed, dreamily, 'I've never felt anything so smooth before... it reminds me of water.' The woman smiled. 'It will look gorgeous on you, the colour matches your extraordinaire complexion almost perfectly.' Then she gestured to two of the tailors to come over, and they quickly took some measurements. The woman patted Faolain's hand when her face showed a certain discomfort at this.

'It will only take a minute, m'lady, and I assure you it will be worth it!'

.

Caithe had been watching the whole ordeal from her windowsill, glad that they had not directed their attention towards her yet. She was incredibly grateful for the generosity of this woman and her host, but the idea of wrapping herself in these strange materials did not appeal to her very much. She had looked at the fabrics up close, they were everywhere - on the bed, on the bolts, on the people, next to her windowsill. They had this strange familiarity, she could feel they had once been plants, but had been maimed beyond recognition. It was like a fish, stripped from flesh and the bones used to build a trap. She admired the technique, but would rather not have it anywhere _on her_. Mostly because she wanted to be agile and not restricted in her movements in battle, but also because the idea was just too.. weird.

Faolain was taken to another corner of the room to have some simple fittings, the tailors scribbling on pieces of paper and making markings on patterns, trying to fit and arrange her leafy skin into a flattering shape. Then the woman stepped to Caithe and bowed, folding her hands.

'And you, m'lady? Anything that caught your fancy?' Caithe stuttered, not sure how to reply without coming off as rude. The woman was so generous, she would feel bad if Caithe would decline, and it would probably cause a scandal, too..

'M'lady is not used to the concept of corsets?' Caithe did not know what a corset was, so she just shook her head. The woman glanced over at Faolain for a second, who was admiring her fabric again while tailors took measurements of her make-shift leaf dress that flowed around her legs.

'I uh,' Caithe started, 'can't be restricted too much. For.. combat reasons.' she struggled out. The woman nodded and brought her hand to her mouth, in a pondering gesture.

'I see.. but we simply cannot let you walk around the city like this, m'lady. It would be.. unheard of.'

'I understand,' said Caithe. She would try to compromise as much as she could. 'Can we not arrange something with these?' She touched the wide leaves she had draped over her shoulder, showing that they could be moved and posed. The woman's eyes grew large and she nodded. 'Yes, yes ofcourse! Let me just- I will be right back, m'lady!' She turned around and quickly began to whisper with one of the ladies at the door. The lady seemed confused at first, but then her eyes began to sparkle. She came up to Caithe.

'My lady? I am her Majesty's hairdresser, so very pleased to meet you.' Caithe gave a small bow and a nervous laugh. 'If you'd let me, my lady, I would love to arrange your... fashion articles for you, in an appropriate manner, my lady.' Caithe still looked nervous. 'You're not going to cut anything, are you?'

'No, my lady, of course not, if that is your wish,' the hairdresser said, bowing once again. Caithe smiled.

'Then that seems a perfect solution to me. I would like to accept your help and give you my gratitude,' she said, trying to copy the ladies' formal way of speaking. 'Nonsense, my lady,' the hairdresser replied, 'the pleasure is all mine.'

Caithe's face relaxed. In the corner, two seamstresses were tightening a corset around Faolain's waist. One had her knee pressed to Faolain's back, pulling the corset further closed, while the other pulled the lacing tight. The one pulling the lacing asked Faolain with a concerned face, 'my lady, are you sure this is not too tight?'

The Sylvari looked over her shoulder, a mischievous smile on her lips.

'Too tight? Madame, are you even trying?'

.

Finally, the two strolled around Divinity's Reach, the white city of humans. Caithe's leaves had been rearranged into a tight-fitting bodysuit of sorts, following the natural lines of her slender body, and wrapping around her legs. She felt agile, none of her leaves waving in the wind anymore. The hairdresser had certainly made a masterpiece out of this impossible task. Faolain seemed more than content with her dark silk dress, light and flowy, the tight corset cinching in her waist. The low neckline gave her an air of elegance, but the attire mostly boosted her confidence, and Caithe once again felt that unmistakable presence, just being by her side. There was no ignoring her. Her presence filled her environment like a subtle, but unique perfume. As they walked, the people gazed in awe. Caithe for the most part gazed back, evenly as perplexed as her admirers.

They browsed at the markets, getting excited over all the little trinkets they found here and there. They experienced the life of the humans, tasted their food, and the humans were so strangely welcoming to them. They had as much questions for them as the Sylvari had for the locals.

'How do you like Divinity's Reach?' 'How long will you be staying?' 'Have you tried my famous apple pie yet?' 'Are you married, my lady?' 'What is the Grove like?' 'Are you truly trees, or do you just look like them?'

At one point, Faolain was dragged off with the fashion ladies, whom, as they said, simply adored her complexion and had no doubt it would be the next big summer hype. _Black is the new white_, they said. Faolain smiled and went along with it, she did not mind the attention at all. Caithe wandered off, exploring the streets endlessly, through the small alleys, to the emptier parts of the city. She stopped at every corner, looking at the subtle wear and tear on the stone housing, the markings made by the villagers, picked up a few dropped items, which she kept for later studies or, if possible, returned to their owners. At last, she walked into a small oasis in the city, a small garden with pillars neatly placed into it. It also had a statue of a human god.

Underneath a thin roof of leaves hanging from the statue, sheltered from the world, a pair of humans sat, a young man and a young woman. They were holding each other, pressing their lips together, intertwining as if they would die if they let go. Caithe stepped back, and pretended to look at the pillars. She felt bad for intruding on such an intimate moment, and yet - she had yet to see a display of love, other than her own. Her curiosity overcame her shame and she looked for a place to hide. Sneaking as silently as she could, she went to a nearby tree, and vanished in the shadow. Travelling from shadow to shadow, and ending in a tree next to the statue, she moved closer to the couple. Observing.

When finally the couple left, hastily redoing their clothes and kissing each other goodbye, Caithe slid inconspicuously from the shadow of the tree, strolling along as if nothing happened. Suddenly her head ached and she felt uneasy. She had not even noticed that she had been so focused, so concentrated on hiding herself and observing the intriguing ritual, that she had completely ruled out all other senses. Now that she did realize, all her senses returned at once, and she felt Faolain's panic.

_Caithe, where are you? Why won't you answer me?_

.

Caithe slid the shutters of the window closed and locked them, placing her hands on the windowsill. Faolain stood in their room, her back turned to her. Caithe let out a deep sigh, unsure of what to do. 'My love, I-' Immediately she felt Faolain's anger flare up.

_I do not wish to talk._ Faolain was channelling it to her on purpose. Caithe walked around her, tried to grab her hand, but Faolain whacked it away. Her eyes flamed with anger.

_Do you know how long I have been trying to locate you?_ Caithe smiled at that, even though she felt sad. Faolain had never been this distant before.

'I am a Thief. You're not supposed to be able to find me. Besides, I can't have been gone longer than a few hours..' Faolain scowled. She folded her arms and gave Caithe a displeased look that seemed to say _I hate not knowing where you are, no matter the amount of time._

'It's been what, two days, and you are turning into a human already.' she suddenly spat. 'Can you even feel what I am telling you? Can't you feel the disturbances? Something is wrong, again, Caithe. Something is wrong with our family at the Grove, and you were nowhere to be found!' Caithe now noticed tears shimmering in the corners of Faolain's eyes, but her expression was fierce. Caithe walked up to her, and gently pulled her in her arms, holding her.

_I can feel it, Faolain. I am sorry._ Faolain slowly relaxed against her.

_Don't leave me again, I do not like it when you leave. _

_Faolain.._

_Your heart belongs to me, Caithe. I will not share it with anyone else. _

Caithe smiled. 'You don't have to. You are with me now.'

'I will be with you always.' Faolain replied, and stroked Caithe's arm with her fingernails, leaving shallow scratches.

'Your greed rivals that of a human.' Caithe mocked her, and took Faolain's lack of visible offence as a sign that they were on good terms once more. 'Speaking of humans, I am not the one donning human made attire.' Now Faolain shot her a warning glance, _don't make me angry again._ Caithe was not impressed though, and went on, softly, almost whispering. 'And as much as I like to see you wear it,' her hand travelled towards the corset lacing at the back and pulled it loose, 'I also learned today,' she pushed the bodice open, holding Faolain's arm with her other hand, so that she could not stop her. Faolain's eyes widened, and she looked at Caithe, confused though unable to hide her interest.

_Caithe? What are you- _

'..that humans have a very special reason for taking it off, and to be honest,' her tone had dropped to a mere whisper now. She pushed down the bodice, letting the dress pool on the floor, in a smooth heap of fabric. Her hands slid up her lover's body, pulling her close, and she pressed their lips together in a tender kiss.

_to be honest, I would much rather see you as Sylvari. _


	5. Queen Jenna's Dinner

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, Shywolf and Faerline! It's immensely encouraging to get such nice and positive feedback, so thank you so much. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)

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The days in Divinity's Reach were easy and peaceful. The only thing disturbing the daily routines of the people were the markets twice a week, but even those became routine after a while. It had been more than a few days since the two Sylvari had arrived in Divinity's Reach, and they grew quite accustomed to being here. Of course, the looks they got in the streets never changed, but the people never acted hostile towards them.

Caithe had noticed that the security of being surrounded by walls had grown on her. It was easy to trust in their strength, but she felt their presence constantly. Part of her still felt captured, caged, and wished to go outside. But for now, this was good. Faolain seemed to fare much the same as her, creating her own safe space in this big city, instead of being in constant danger, was something that came natural to her now.

Caithe closed the door to her room after she and Faolain had entered it. She had turned to sit on the bed, while Faolain pulled out a small sack from under it, and opened it, apparently searching for something.

'We should have something like here in the Grove,' Faolain said. Caithe looked at her, surprised. 'You would like stone walls in the Grove?'

'Not made of stone. But.. homes. We can't all sleep at the Pale Tree's roots once the new pods open. Have you seen how many there will be?'

'The Grove will change.' Caithe concluded, not sure if she was pleased with this or not.

'It will.' Faolain nodded. Her face stood determined, but Caithe couldn't quite figure out if it was because she was still searching, or thinking about something else. Caithe opened her mouth so ask, but Faolain smiled and turned away, shaking her head absentmindedly.

Caithe stood for a moment, watching the darker Sylvari rummage through her small stack of belongings she had acquired in the city. There were weapons, various crystals and magic gemstones, and random items that she had taken an interest in. Caithe could see an old ragdoll, a bloodied knife and something that looked like worn rope from where she was standing.

It did not feel right. In her gut a dark feeling was forming, something that expanded with each second of Faolain ignoring her. Slowly it dawned on Caithe that it was anger, and disappointment. Suspicion. She briskly stepped over to Faolain and pulled her up to a standing position, facing her, deliberately grabbing Faolain's injured arm. Faolain yelped and tried to pull loose. Caithe grabbed her lover's face and forced Faolain to look at her. Her gaze was piercing.

_Are you keeping a secret from me, Faolain?_

Faolain struggled to avoid her gaze, turning her face away, whispering at her lover, and trying to soothe her.

'Caithe, please, I would never do that,' she softly stroked Caithe's cheek with her free hand, 'you are hurting me, Caithe..' Caithe looked up at the arm she had clenched in her fist, the shoulder bent awkwardly, the bandages slipping. The wound had healed almost completely, but looked sore still. Slowly she loosened her grip and softened her expression. Faolain slid into her arms, pressing herself against the other, still stroking her.

'What is the matter, Caithe? That was unlike you,' she whispered. Caithe closed her eyes and held Faolain close, the dark feeling sliding off of her like water.

'I don't know,' she answered. Embracing each other like this spread a warm feeling through her chest.

'You long to be outside again,' Faolain said. Caithe barely even felt surprise at her lover being able to read her so easily. She nodded. Faolain sighed.

'We should go then.'

.

The word of their departure spread like wildfire. They had barely packed up and cleaned out the room they had been given, when a messenger, shining in his white armour, knocked at the door. He was heaving, and looked as if he had run a great distance. He bowed to them and presented them with a letter, sealed with the royal seal. Caithe took it, shyly thanking the messenger, and breaking the seal. She rolled open the paper and started to read, Faolain reading over her shoulder.

_My dear guests,_

_Word has reached me of your impending departure. I hope you have had a pleasant stay in Divinity's Reach._

_Yet it would be a shame if we could not meet before you leave. I would therefore like to invite you to my royal dinner this evening, which will be held in the left wing of the palace. A few of my other guests will be attending as well. It shall be a joy to speak to each other in person._

_Looking forward to our meeting,_

_her Majesty Queen Jenna_

'Queen Jenna?' Faolain asked the messenger. She had heard the name before, but had thought it was something symbolic.

'Our great and gentle queen, my lady.' Faolain looked at him still. 'So, she is your guide?' The messenger nodded.

'She is our ruler, our leader, my lady.' Faolain smiled. 'Thank you, my good ...lad.' She thought for a moment before continuing. 'Please inform your queen we are honoured with her invitation and are looking forward to meeting her.' The messenger nodded and took his leave.

'They have one of their species as their leader. Just a human as a guide.' Caithe noted. 'Don't they have a tablet to follow? Or do they just follow that human's whim?'

'I don't know,' Faolain said, thinking. 'But it is an interesting concept. I wonder what she is like, this queen Jenna..' Caithe smiled mischievously.

'What, are you already picturing yourself in the Pale Tree's footsteps?' she mocked her. Faolain folded her hands behind her head and puckered her lips in an exaggerated pose of arrogance.

'Well, I _am_ the most talented and beautiful of all her children, after all..' Caithe's mouth dropped open in feigned offense.

'No you aren't!'

'Yes I am!' Faolain laughed, and ran into the hallway, Caithe following close behind. They chased each other over the white walls surrounding the city, running and laughing, their hair and clothes waving in the wind. The guards knew they were not supposed to look, but couldn't help but smile at their playfulness.

.

The dining hall was long, with an immensely high ceiling supported by high arches. The walls had been decorated with blue and white mosaic, telling of the tales of human heroes. Caithe stared at a mosaic of a man with a flaming sword. It was skillfully made, tiny rocks placed together so neatly that it almost seemed as if the man was actually standing there, mist surrounding him. As the Sylvari entered, a guard announced them with a loud voice. Caithe jumped at the sound, but quickly recovered.

'Miss Caithe, Firstborn of Sylvari. Miss Faolain, Firstborn of Sylvari.' Faolain smiled, and glanced at Caithe.

_I like this custom, we should do this at home too._

_That would be very impractical._ Caithe smiled, forgetting her nerves for a moment.

In the middle of the dining hall a long table was placed, with at least twenty seats on each side. At the head of the table a golden, heavily decorated throne stood. It was empty.

Several seats at the table were already taken, most by humans in expensive clothing. One of the seats hosted a tiny figure, lifted up by several fluffy pillows, with a broad face. It's skin was a light grey, and its eyes were large and yellow. Giant ears flapped on either side of its head. It seemed to be lecturing a human on a certain topic, with a very clear air of superiority. On the other side, two giant humans sat. They both took up more than one space and had broader chairs. They were muscular men with large beards and scars and blue patterns over their bodies. They drunk a foul-smelling drink from mugs the size of small buckets. Caithe noticed they kept their voices low, but they were still very loud. At full volume, they must have had voices with the strength of boulders. They actually looked a bit like boulders.

A guard waved for them to follow and Caithe was shaken from her thoughts. They took two seats on the left side of the table, between the large men and the empty throne. The guard brought them both a pillow, so that they sat higher in the chair, and could rest their arms on the high table.

'Why, I should have brought my new invention, yes, I should have,' the grey creature across from them suddenly started. 'Now they have to prop you up with these pillows too, it's degrading, I tell you, degrading.' The human next to him tried to interfere, but the creature waved him away.

'No no no. I will not have any of it. This would never have happened in Rata Sum, I tell you, not in a million-' Caithe and Faolain exchanged a quick glance before Caithe excitedly asked, 'What invention?' as Faolain joined in with 'What is Rata Sum?'

'Ah! My invention! Well you see, miss-' the creature's words died on his lips as he took a good look at the pair, apparently not having them deemed worthy to look at before.

'I don't see anything,' Faolain remarked, checking the sides of her chair. The creature shook his head in annoyance.

'Not here, miss, in Rata Sum. There I have this project, hm, how shall I call it?'

'I cannot think of a fitting name for an object I do not know, sir..' Caithe replied apologetically, which made the creature gesture his hand even more annoyed, furrowing his brow. He opened his mouth again to retort when the guard at the door interrupted him.

'Please rise for her Majesty, Queen Jenna of Divinity's Reach!' The guard stepped back and revealed a dark-skinned woman walking in, a flowing white dress caressing her every curve. Her dark hair was pinned up in elegant curls that held up a small silver crown. Her dark lined eyes scanned the room and a soft smile graced her lips. The humans rose from their seats immediately, standing up straight but humbly bowing their heads. The two large men shoved their chairs backwards and stood up. Both Caithe and Faolain watched, eyes wide, as the men rose to two times their height. Had their faces just been even, now the Sylvari could barely see their noses stick out from over their beards, let alone their eyes. They were massive. Their plated armor croaked and groaned as they moved their muscled bodies, and various axes and rifles rattled around belts on their hips.

Trying not to look too intimidated, Caithe and Faolain rose too. Now the table came to their chests, and they had been taller when they were still propped up on their chairs. The grey creature across from them had the same problem, they saw, as his human companion helped him off his chair. With a displeased face he disappeared completely beneath the table's surface.

Queen Jenna walked soundlessly towards the throne, she almost seemed to float. She draped herself on the throne, all elegance, and then made a waving gesture with her long, slender arms.

'Please, sit,' she spoke. Her guests sat down instantaneously, Caithe and Faolain following close, making sure they did not stand out much more than necessary. The large men sounded like they were moving mountains instead of sitting down on chairs. The queen's voice was soft, like velvet. She need not speak loud because she knew everyone would listen to her. 'Welcome, all. It is truly a pleasure to see all of you have accepted my invitation.' The guests replied with various softly spoken thanks or how the pleasure was all theirs, the grey creature just took a sip of his drink, while the two huge men lifted their mugs at the queen in thanks.

Faolain sat with her hands folded neatly, her back straightened out. Caithe glanced at her, wondering how she got that pose and why. Then her eyes fell on a lady at the end of the table, who was now gesturing lightly with one hand, engaged in a friendly conversation, but had the other one folded just like Faolain. Caithe smiled to herself, slightly envious that she hadn't thought of copying someone first.

The queen spoke, and all faces were directed towards her once again.

'Have you been introduced?' She asked the grey creature. It smiled wryly, and answered, 'Not to everyone, I'm afraid. I've had the..pleasure of meeting Ron Wolfborn on my way here though.' He gestured vaguely towards the two men, and Jenna smiled.

''t Was a real pleasure hunting you, Gixx,' one of the large men laughed. 'Next time, take someone who doesn't look like a rabbit with you!' The two men burst out in laughter, and smashed their mugs together before taking a giant gulp of the drink. Jenna spoke calmly, as if she was not fazed at all by the crude behaviour of the two men.

'Well then, Gixx, next to Ron Wolfborn we have Knut Whitebear, one of the ministers of Hoelbrak. Knut, this is Professor Gixx, magister of the Durmand Priory.' Whitebear raised his glass at Gixx, as he had done towards the queen.

'Pleasure, magister.' Gixx looked displeased, but nodded curtly. Caithe had observed the conversation in awe. These people were so... different. Suddenly the queen directed her attention to them, and Caithe looked back at her with wide eyes. Queen Jenna truly was one of the most beautiful humans she had ever seen. Maybe that was why she had become queen?

'And on this side, I don't think you have been introduced to anyone yet, have you?' Caithe only weakly shook her head. Jenna smiled. 'Well then. Over here, as I said, magister Gixx of the Durmand Priory. He's an Asura from Rata Sum, south from here. And the two gentlemen over there, are the minister of Hoelbrak and his best friend, am I saying that right, Knut?'

'Sharp as always, your Majesty,' Whitebear answered in his deep, roaring voice. 'Ron here is more my brother than anyone. Soon, he will face the tooth of Jormag, and I am sure he will succeed.' The other man nudged him, and interrupted, 'It's better not to sell the hide before you've slain the bear, Knut.'

'I agree,' Faolain stepped in with her smooth voice and her unmistakable presence, 'it would be better to sell it as a whole bear then.' The large men roared with laughter. Whitebear turned towards the Sylvari.

'I like your attitude, miss. Would you care to honour me with your name?' Faolain smiled, and averted her gaze for a moment before looking up and speaking again.

'Of course, sir. My name is Faolain, and this is Caithe. We are Firstborn Sylvari, from the Grove.'

'Where is this Grove, if I may ask?' Gixx asked, his chin propped up on his hand.

'You may,' Caithe answered. A short silence followed, in which everyone looked at her. Suddenly she realized and answered, 'South from here. I think, three, maybe four days walking. We travelled a long distance by horse.'

'You own horses?' Ron Wolfborn asked. He certainly did not expect that. The Sylvari shook their heads. 'No.'

'Then how did you travel by horse?'

'They were not our horses,' Caithe explained. Jenna broke in, that unwavering smile still on her face.

'They were picked up by two of my finest Seraph Guards. There have been multiple issues with giant devourers in the area, and I'm afraid my ladies also had the displeasure of encountering one.'

'I see,' Gixx nodded, 'they are around Rata Sum as well. I believe one of my colleagues is working on a golem to keep them away. An attack would explain your injury, miss Faolain?'

Faolain covered her bandages with her hand, smiling politely, but Caithe felt she was displeased. 'It would. I'll have you know that we killed it, though,' Faolain said, not ready to be trampled over by all these self-centered people.

'Ha! It's always the prettiest faces that bear venom fangs.' Whitebear roared. 'So, what brings you to Divinity's Reach, ladies?'

'We are already in Divinity's Reach. The question should be what will bring us to the next destination.' Caithe looked confusedly at him.

'And what will your next destination be?'

'That depends on the route we choose.' Whitebear smiled, a little forcedly, and was glad when Gixx interrupted. Meanwhile the servants were serving up food, which the large men happily dug into.

'Say, miss Caithe. The Grove.. if I understand correctly, it is not far from Rata Sum. I may even have been there sometime. It has been a long time though, so I might not...' he suddenly turned his attention to queen Jenna and explained to her, 'The Priory has kept me away a lot. Whoever decided to make headquarters in those blasted Shiverpeaks should be stripped of their rank, I tell you.'

'You know the Pale Tree?' Caithe asked Gixx. Jenna smiled and answered, 'I know many species of pale trees, Caithe.'

_Don't answer, Caithe._ Caithe had actually opened her mouth to say something, but smiled and closed it again. Jenna spoke to Gixx about the Durmand Priory.

_How did you know? _ Caithe was secretly thankful for her ways of silent conversation with Faolain. It made discussing a strategy so much easier. Faolain shook her head.

_I'm not sure yet. It might be some kind of code. Looks like I was right just now though. The large men don't speak the code, but they say things they do not mean that way._

Jenna laughed as she conversed with Gixx, occasionally asking for opinions from the large men and the other people at the table.

_It's fascinating._ Caithe smiled. _It is. _ Faolain turned back to Whitebear. She seemed to have taken an interest in him especially.

'Minister Whitebear,' she asked, her velvety voice rivaling Jenna's, 'can you tell me about Hoelbrak? Is it a city, like here?' Whitebear shook his head.

'Hoelbrak is east from here, miss Faolain. It's up in the mountains, where it's cold all day and freezes all night. The only thing keeping you warm there are the Spirits and the ale, hah!' He took another gulp of the drink.

'Ale?' Faolain asked. She decided not to ask about the spirits keeping anyone warm. The Pale Tree may know whatever he meant with that.

'Y'don't know ale, miss? Oh, such a shame. Jenna's got some of Hoelbrak's best ale, luckily, personally brewed by my nephew's spouse. Don't screw around with her, or you're never getting ale again!' He laughed, then gestured one of the servants to get Faolain some ale. Caithe was trying to keep up with both this conversation, and the one going on between Gixx and Jenna. While the servants poured Faolain some ale in a -considerably smaller- cup, she heard shreds of the conversation that interested her immensely. Whitebear told of his world, the Norn world, completely white, where elementals roamed and Dredge dug tunnels underneath the frozen land. Yet on the other hand, Gixx had news on a collegue of his, who had found a new sort of humanoid Jungle Wurm near Rata Sum. He did not have much yet but the experiments were proving to be very interesting.

Faolain was amusing herself immensely just listening to the conversation and bringing the strange drink to her lips, which smelled awful but tasted alright, until the stories started blurring together and the lights started flickering and the voices started becoming louder than was comfortable. She had already lost her upright posture, and was half-hanging on the table, still entranced by Whitebear's stories, a giddy smile on her face.

'How's the ale, milady?' Whitebear joked, gently setting her upright again. Caithe looked over at Faolain, wondering what had brought about this state of happy confusion in her.

'Can I have another?' Faolain asked happily, overthinking the words before speaking them. Jenna scolded Whitebear, but her tone was amused.

'Knut! Must you always poison at least one of my guests with your ale? Look what you did to the poor lady!' Caithe stroked Faolain's back as she now slumped forward, holding her head in her hands, elbows on the table.

'Well, it's getting late,' Whitebear said. 'Perhaps I should do the right thing and escort the ladies to their room, don't you think?' Jenna smiled. 'Very well. Caithe, Faolain, it has been a pleasure to meet you.' As they stood up, Caithe bowed to Jenna. Faolain was holding onto Whitebear's arm, trying to stay up on her feet.

'The pleasure was all ours, your Majesty. For all your kindness, you have our gratitude.'

'You will always be welcome in Divinity's Reach, Firstborn.'

.

They headed out the large doors. Caithe longingly looked at the city gates, but consoled herself that it would only be for another night. Whitebear caught her staring.

'Oh, weren't you leaving tonight?'

'We were supposed to. But Faolain isn't going anywhere, I'm afraid.' Said Sylvari was staring intently at a point on the ceiling, sometimes smiling about something only she understood.

'I must apologize. I have never seen the ale have such a strong effect in such a small amount. Will you allow me to make it up to you?' Caithe raised her eyebrows.

'How?'

Whitebear gestured to the city gates. 'I have a hunting cart that me and Ron take with us. If you don't mind a bit of a bumpy ride, we can take you on the cart to Hoelbrak. We might be there in two days, if we leave tonight.' Caithe smiled widely, almost jumping a bit from excitement.

'That would be fantastic. I would love to see the frozen city!'

'It's settled then. My honour has been saved. Once Ron arrives, we'll depart.' Caithe nodded. Suddenly Knut turned towards Faolain and sank through one knee, offering her his hand.

'Shall we go, drunk little madam?' Faolain looked at him for a moment, then nodded and took his hand. Knut noticed she was walking a little shakily still, and picked her up as if she weighed nothing. They went through the gates and Knut settled them both on the cart. Caithe grinned as Faolain slumped against the side of the cart, looking miserable.

_Oh, Faolain, I will never let you live this down._ Yet Caithe stroked her forehead softly, lovingly, then looked at the road ahead. Her heart pounded in her chest.

_Onwards to Hoelbrak._


	6. Struggle

The wooden cart groaned and creaked as Ron Wolfborn pulled it, slightly readjusting the thick leather straps over his shoulders . The sky was already starting to get lighter in the east, the stars slowly fading.

Caithe had fallen into a quick step next to him, tired of sitting on the bumpy cart. Her legs were sore from riding it. Faolain lay sprawled out over the cart now, leaning one arm over the edge so that she could rest her head and look at the lightening sky. She had gone from miserable to moody to quiet, and just seemed to be suffering from hurt pride now. She would be better soon.

'So, mister Wolfborn,' Caithe started, and the man burst out a half laugh, half cough.

'Call me Ron,' he said, taking a gulp from a flask at his hip. Caithe nodded, and happily continued, 'So, Ron. What exactly did you bring this cart to Divinity's Reach for?'

'I am a travelling merchant, and a hunter, like all Norn,' Ron began. Caithe mentally noted the word _Norn_ and found it very fitting. 'I hunt the beasts of the shiverpeaks. I sell what's usable and eat what's edible. Knut likes to come along once in a while. He's one of the ministers, but he's a hunter at heart.' Ron shook his head, laughing. 'If only he'd just put his heart in his job. He could be ruler of Hoelbrak, you know.'

'Following your heart is not an unwise thing to do.' Caithe answered. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to Faolain, who stared off into the distance. The air had gotten colder slowly but steadily, and the landscape was turning white. Clouds gathered overhead, and soft flakes of snow started dazing down.

Faolain was startled from her ponderings when a snowflake landed on her arm. She turned her head to look at it, then carefully picked it up. It melted between her fingers. As more flakes began to fall, she looked up in wonder. She tried to catch them, but they vanished as soon as they touched her skin. The ones on her dress did not melt immediately, and she carefully lifted her skirt to inspect them.

'Caithe?' The other had also caught a few, but they had melted instantly. She came walking over to Faolain, who held up part of her skirt, showing her the snowflakes. She smiled widely.

'Look at how beautiful they are! They are like.. tiny cold crystals!' Caithe stared in awe, a big smile on her face.

'Hey, you captured them!'

'They turn into water if you touch them, right?' Caithe's eyes sparkled. Knut Whitebear came walking over, a dead hare on his shoulder.

'Ladies have never seen the snow before?' The Sylvari shook their heads. Knut laughed. 'Just you wait. By midday, we'll be knee-deep in snow. Let's see if you still like it then!'

.

Knut was right. Before the sun had reached its full height the snow had covered the land in a thick white blanket. The temperature had dropped considerably, making their breaths visible in the air. Both Ron and Knut held one strap of the cart now, pulling it through the thick, frosty snow. The cart had been loaded up with various dead animals. Both Sylvari had decided to walk the rest of the way, as it was the easiest way to keep warm.

Caithe looked around, wide eyed. The land was unlike anything she had ever seen before. They had been climbing since morning, and now the view showed giant mountains rising from the depths, their white peaks at eye level. It was as if she could see the end of the world from here.

Ron gestured towards the east. 'There, over that mountain, is Hoelbrak. Built in a valley between two mountains.' Caithe peered into the mist. 'I don't see it..'

'You can't see it yet, we're too far away. You're lucky you're with us, you wouldn't want to get lost in these lands. There's ettins everywhere and the Sons of Svanir have been restless too, lately.'

'If anyone had been here, they would have been easy to track, right?' Faolain asked. Ron nodded, 'For now. Trails are visible until it starts snowing again. Once that happens...' he trailed off. Caithe looked at him concernedly.

'Then what?' Ron laughed again and patted her on her head. 'Well miss, if you get caught in a snowstorm, you had better find a cave than worry about your trails!'

'Halt!' Knut suddenly whispered, holding out his hand and standing perfectly still. Caithe and Faolain stopped too, looking around. Caithe's hand hovered over her dagger. The cart came to a grinding stop. Then it was eerily silent.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing. Then suddenly, behind them, the frozen ground began to groan and crack. Caithe yelped as she looked over her shoulder and readied her weapons. A creature, taller than either of the two Norns, made out of pointy ice loomed behind them, not twenty metres away. Behind it, another such creature rose from the frosted ground. The first took a slow, heavy step towards them - and then broke into a loose run.

'Fall back!' Knut roared, as he and Ron pushed the Sylvari to the front of the cart and stood defensively before them, shielding them from the charging elemental. Knut pulled his sword, as Ron wielded an axe and a burning torch. 'From the side!' Ron shouted. They charged to either side of the elemental and shattered it with their synchronized attack.

The other elemental let out a howling sound, like wind moaning around old buildings. Suddenly the ground around them began to move and rubble again, and more elementals got up from their icy sleep. Ron gritted his teeth.

'So many..' Caithe suddenly felt warmth against her back. Faolain had purple aura's floating around her hands.

'I've got your back, Caithe.' Faolain said, with determination in her voice. Caithe nodded and readied her daggers. Then she charged forward and sliced at an elemental. It lunged at her, but she rolled out of the way. It had a shallow scratch on its shoulder, but was otherwise unharmed. She jumped and slashed at it again - this time making a deep scratch over its chest.

The creature roared and swung a giant arm at her. Just before it hit, Caithe was pushed out of the way by a slightly translucent Faolain - that was controlled by the real Faolain, who stood safely out of reach. Then Faolain moved her arms and cast a signet on the ground, purple light appearing and glowing around the elemental. The beast roared, but was pinned in place.

Caithe took her opportunity and jumped up, plunging both her daggers into the elemental's chest. Then she twisted them and pulled them out with a sickening _crack. _The ice shattered and fell down into a massive heap. Behind her, Faolain let another one shatter with a flick of her hand. The elementals just kept coming.

Caithe backed up, finding Faolain. They were both breathing hard. 'There's too many,' Faolain said, holding the elementals off with shields of purple.

'We need a plan,' Caithe answered, trying to regain her breath. Faolain blasted a shockwave to throw back the elementals, and buy them some precious time.

'I can shatter them with one attack. I just need them to stand still for a few moments,' Caithe thought frantically. Faolain thought for a moment, then braced herself against the frozen ground.

'I will distract them. Go, as quickly as you can!' As she spoke, she whirled her hands and formed several clones of herself, that ran towards the elementals. The beasts seemed confused for a moment, then each began attacking their own clone. Caithe charged at her foes, and shattered the first. The next two elementals saw her a second too late and went down as well.

Faolain kept conjuring and puppeteering her clones, dancing around to dodge the ranged attacks. Suddenly a loud thump and a wet cracking noise sliced the air, followed by a howl of pain. Ron flew two metres back, his arm twisted behind him. Faolain's eyes widened and she lost concentration for a moment. The clones flickered and froze, almost disappearing. Caithe had been mid-jump when an elemental suddenly shifted his attention to her and smacked her away. The air was smashed out of her when she hit the hard ground.

With a snap Faolain was back in the fight, and her clones started moving again. She ran over to stand in front of Caithe protectively, but the elementals had noticed a difference between her and the clones, and started running in her direction. Caithe desperately tried to catch her breath, her hands clutching her chest. Five elementals charged at them, breathing ice and breaking the ground with their massive feet.

From the corner of her eye Caithe saw Knut standing beside Ron, who'd gotten up. Then her head snapped upwards again as they were slowly being cornered. Then the first elemental before them poised to strike. Caithe screamed Faolain's name as suddenly purple magic overtook her vision. Faolain had crossed her arms in a large, sweeping gesture, with gritted teeth and blazing eyes.

The creatures stood like statues. Then, they sank through their giant legs and shattered at Faolain's feet. Caithe got up with wide eyes as Faolain let out a shaking breath. They exchanged one look, one look of warm feelings and thanks and relief, then Caithe grabbed Faolain's hand and they ran to the last six elementals cornering the Norn.

'Just give us an opening!' Ron bellowed over the roars of the monsters. Caithe charged in as Faolain conjured up new clones. The elementals were quickly confused, not sure whom to give priority to. Caithe shattered an elemental in the middle, and that was all the Norn needed. Knut swung his weapon, knocking the elementals back. With two large steps he picked up Caithe and rolled over to where Faolain was, leaving Ron with the elementals. Ron waited for the exact moment, a small smile playing over his features. Then he grabbed his torch and blew, a blazing stream of fire over all the elementals, melting them instantly.

Knut held the Sylvari close to the ground, out of range of the fireblast, until Ron lowered his torch, and took a deep breath.

'We got them.'

.

In another place, night had just begun to fall. Three stone pyramids were suspended in the air, held up by powerstone magic, and connected by translucent bridges. There were several floors, and in the middle of the three pyramids a deep ravine lay, so deep that one could not see the bottom, only white mist in the deeps. It was the city of Rata Sum, home to the asura.

In the northernmost pyramid was a lab. To get there one had to go down many flights of stairs, deeper, ever deeper into the inverted pyramid. In the lowest chambers, where only artificial light was, and the door had double locks, one single low steel table stood in a locked room. A cabinet next to it, containing glowing vials and various tools, was its only company.

On the table lay an unconscious figure. His handsome face had the eyes closed, the brows furrowed in a pained look. His hands were strapped above his head, locked with metal locks and connected to the table. A removable mask covered his head. His legs were chained to the table as well, one stretched out, one propped up. The only sign that he was alive was the shallow movement of his chest.

An asura with sharp eyes and pointy teeth opened the doubly locked door, and closed it off behind him as soon as he had entered. He walked over to the table, sniffed, then wrote something down on a clipboard. He started prodding and poking the figure, but it did not respond. He tugged the leafy legs roughly, banging the feet against the table, and watching the unmoving figure for a moment. He scribbled something else down.

'Assistant 8, lab 34, Subject 86g. I need my vials prepared,' the asura said into an earpiece, and a affirmative response answered. Then the asura turned, put the clipboard down on the table and started gathering tools in the cabinet. The door creaked and a slender, small Asura with red eyes entered.

'Close the door behind you.' The first snapped. The assistant jumped a bit and then hurried to close the door behind her. 'Y-yes master Kudu.' 'Get to work!' Kudu hissed, and she ran towards the cabinet, quickly sorting the vials and loading up syringes.

Kudu walked over to the table and slowly removed the mask, revealing the face of a Sylvari. He prodded the high cheekbones, then sighed.

'He's still out cold. We'll do the other vial first.' The assistant swallowed audibly, quickly changing out vials and making sure she had the right ones.

'Master?' she squeaked, 'Do we need the Wurm specific vial or do we use the general one?' Her hands shook lightly.

'Does this look like a jungle Wurm to you?' Kudu asked, a sneer in his voice.

'N-no, master Kudu,' the assistant mumbled, immediately grabbing another vial from the cabinet.

'Good,' the master said. 'I was beginning to wonder why they hailed you as a genius and why I hired you again.'

She finally had three loaded syringes in her hands, and just wanted to bring them to her master when the other asura suddenly narrowed his eyes.

'No. I want to use my new potion first.' The assistant looked just about ready to faint, but resolutely turned around, dropped the syringes and loaded a clean one with a milky white substance, that had an odd greenish glow. She brought it over to master Kudu, who proceeded to insert the syringe into the Sylvari and dump its contents.

Then he lifted his hand and ordered, 'Now the others.'

.

Malomedies was somewhere inbetween sleep and waking. He floated, feeling his muscles ache dully somewhere in the back of his mind. Sometimes, there were flashes of light or flashes of memory. Usually it was silent. He kept going over and over the last thing he remembered. There were forests, dense forests, and then, little creatures. Burning pain, and then black. The table almost seemed familiar already. He had no notion of time, no idea what day it was, where he was taken. There were only episodes of _something_ _happening_ , and then long periods of _nothing happening_.

Suddenly a burning pain seared up his arm and he was cruelly shaken from his sleep -like state. He opened his eyes, and tried to move, to scream. He could see, for the first time since his last memory. A stone ceiling, glowing stones. Everything was blurry. His muscles ached as he used them after laying unmoving for hours, and started cramping once the burn reached them. He cringed, his sides trying to force him to positions he could not manoeuvre into.

Yellow eyes looked down on him. He heard the screeching of a pen on paper, it echoed in his ears. He opened his mouth and managed out a groan. The yellow eyes blinked, then the pen screeched again.

A pinch in his leg. Malomedies breathed out. It was just a pinch. It was just a pinch. It was just-

Suddenly he screamed, he screamed with full force as his leg began spasming and turning. He screamed and screamed and rattled all the chains that bound him, to no avail.

'Oh look, it's wilting,' a voice said. Malomedies forced himself to calm down, forced himself to breathe, clenched his jaws shut. He sought his voice, he sought to call for help, but his mind was hazy and numbed with pain.

'Let's put this one in then,' the voice spoke again, and another pinch followed. Another second of terror. Then it started again. Malomedies screamed with it, tears streaming down his cheeks.

'K-Kahedins!' He cried, suddenly, his lips forming a word, a name in his throat. The name of a person that could never hear him, no matter how hard he cried.

'Did he just say something?'

'I think he did.'

'Kahedins..' Malomedies muttered again, a picture, a memory playing before his eyes. A memory of the Grove, on a warm day, by the pond. Kahedins' cheerful smile playing over his lips.

'It's still wilting, master,' a higher, more feminine voice said. It was replied to with a grunt.

Another pinch. Suddenly all the pain stopped. Up to his knee was completely motionless.

'Oh, it's dead. Well, we have another leg.'

'Shall I prepare a healing potion, master?' Malomedies struggled to keep up with the voices. They were to quick and too high and too ungraspable.

'Later. I want to try something else first.'

He groaned again, moving his mouth in a futile attempt to speak. Something brushed past his bound hands and suddenly he grasped it, clenched his fists tightly shut. The female voice yelped, and something struggled against his grip. He clenched his fists tighter and groaned again.

'Help me.' He rasped. His throat was dry and sore from screaming. He relaxed his hands. He felt whatever he had held not leave the palms of his hands immediately.

'Master Kudu? It just asked for help.' The female voice said. Another grunt from the darker voice.

'That's what the mask is for.' Something covered his eyes and mouth, and darkness engulfed him once more. When the pain in his leg suddenly returned, his screams were muffled to an almost inaudible buzz.

.

Master Kudu's earpiece made a noise as another asura tried to contact him. He answered curtly.

'What?' Noise, then a metallic voice answered.

'Master Kudu, there has been an urgent note delivered for you. Shall I bring-'

'Who is it from?' Kudu snapped. 'I'm busy.'

'It's from magister Gixx, master.' The asura on the other side answered politely.

'Gixx. Well then, bring it here,' Kudu said, annoyedly. He made sure the mask was fastened securely before making a small cut in one of the leaves of the leg. The creature started thrashing again, so he just rested his arms on the table and waited for it to calm down. The door opened slowly.

'Master Kudu. I have your-'

'Give it to her! And get out!' Kudu snapped, and his assistant immediately ran up to the messenger, taking the letter and whispering an apology to him. She closed the door behind the other and ran to give her master the note.

Kudu tore it open with a pointy tooth and quickly scanned through it. His eyes widened for a second.

'Gixx met more of them. He suspects I have one too.' Kudu looked at his assistant. 'Which, concluding from his description, is correct.'

'So they are intelligent?' the assistant asked, eyes glimmering. 'That means-'

'That means we have to stop all research immediately!' Kudu gnarled at her. The assistant stepped back in reflex, her arms raised in front of her, shielding herself from him. Her master looked at the letter again, eyes blazing with rage.

'Gixx is returning to the Priory before he comes to Rata Sum.' The assistant nodded nervously. Kudu curled his mouth into something that might have been a smile.

'So we still have time. Bring me the next seven vials.' He tore up the letter and dropped it carelessly to the ground.

The assistant jumped up, brought the vials, then bent to pick up the pieces of torn paper and throw them out. She heard the creature thrash and scream again. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and gathered all her courage together.

'Master Kudu, is this really-' She jumped when Kudu slammed his fist on the table, hard, the vibrations reached even the assistants' feet.

'One more word and you are fired!' Kudu snarled at her. The assistant's eyes widened, and she returned to her place with her face humbly turned towards the ground.

'..Yes, Master Kudu.'


	7. Shattered

A/N: Here's another long one, hope you enjoy! As always, reviews are very much appreciated, they help me keep this whole thing interesting. :)

* * *

In the low foliage by the pond, not far from the Grove, a muscular young Sylvari sat awkwardly, his knees folded underneath him, crawling under a maze of tiny braches of a shrubbery. He dug slowly with his hands in the earth, feeling the soil on his fingers.

He carefully moved the soil away from the stems to uncover the roots. A small skeleton lay there, the bones a bit out of place but otherwise nicely preserved. Trahearne was fascinated, and he gently blew the dust off the small bones. He stared for a few moments, not sure whether he wanted to touch the small remains or not. His uncomfortable position made his feet begin to sting from loss of circulation, and he shifted his weight slightly. His knee scraped past the stem of a thorny bush and he yelped, instinctively pulling back his leg and scraping himself against other thorns in the process. The stinging pain made him mutter curses under his breath, but he stopped abruptly as the thick-leafed branches above him were bent away to reveal the silhouette of a face against the light of the sun. He quickly threw the hole in the ground closed with the soil around it.

'Oh, it is just you, Trahearne!' Trahearne looked up at the face of the other Sylvari, squinted against the light and stuttered a greeting, not sure whether to take his hands out of the soil or not.

'I thought there was a Moa bird stuck in the bushes. I have seen it more often around here, they come here to drink and then get stuck on their way back.' The other laughed.

'I look like a Moa bird?' Trahearne asked, laughing nervously. He got up, trying to clean off his hands behind his back. The other flashed a smile at him that rivalled the beauty of the sunshine.

'What?'

'N-nothing,' Trahearne stammered, still forcedly wiping his hands, for lack of having anything better to do. He wanted to step out of the shrubbery, but didn't want to risk tripping over the tangled branches. 'Say, Kahedins..'

Said Sylvari looked over his shoulder as he walked back to his small baskets, and gestured for Trahearne to follow. He sat down at the poolside and started washing some fruit. After a moment's hesitance, Trahearne stepped over the bushes, carefully keeping his balance, and sat next to him. He cleansed his hands in the cool water, watching the soil spread out and float away. Kahedins glanced at him, waiting for him to continue speaking.

'What, uh, what are you doing here? Weren't you working on the houses in the Grove?' Kahedins smiled, then sighed.

'Yes, I was. But I needed some fresh air, I think.' He stared at the path leading into deeper, darker parts of the forest. 'Time to think,' he added, more to himself than to the other.

Trahearne looked at him. Kahedins' face was smooth, his skin a healthy colour of light green. He looked in all aspects like a sapling, fresh and young.

'About what?' Trahearne forced out eventually, trying to sound casual. He noticed his heart beating slightly quicker than usual, so he looked at his hands, rather than Kahedins' face, to stop the other from noticing. Kahedins sighed, suddenly rather sad. A moment went by where none of them spoke.

'It's just.. I don't like the others being gone so long, you know.' Kahedins mumbled, and Trahearne nodded in agreement.

'It is strange without them. The Grove feels emptier, don't you think?' He answered softly.

'Yeah,' Kahedins said. He picked another handful of fruit and rinsed it. Then he lifted his hand and offered Trahearne some of the wet berries. 'Would you like a few?' Trahearne hesitated, then shook his head. Kahedins looked at him for a moment, questioning, but then shrugged and threw the berries in his own mouth. He grabbed another handful and rinsed them, setting the clean ones in the other basket.

'Do you miss him?' Trahearne suddenly blurted out. Kahedins stiffened for a moment, then sighed, and nodded slowly.

'This is where I last saw him. I don't even remember how many days ago,' Kahedins murmured, not looking up from his work. 'He went down that path,' he vaguely waved at the dark forest, 'and told me to wait for him.'

'Which is what you are doing?' Trahearne replied slowly.

'Which is what I am doing.' Kahedins face was still downturned. Trahearne felt unpleasant, like he was overstaying his welcome. Yet Kahedins' presence was so oddly addicting.

'I'm sure Malomedies is safe.' He said, after a while. Kahedins did not respond. 'He will have great stories to tell you when he returns.'

The birds chirped loudly. Trahearne found looking at Kahedins' hands caressing the water and fruit was strangely entrancing. It made time seem to slow down. Then Kahedins' soft voice broke the spell of silence, no matter how gentle the sound.

'I wonder if Faolain found Caithe in the end,' he set the berries in the other basket and grabbed another handful. 'Or if they are both carving their own paths now.' Trahearne nodded. He wished he could say something, anything to make the other Sylvari feel better, but he didn't know what. Suddenly Kahedins sighed and picked up his baskets.

'I'm going to the Grove. Malomedies is not coming back today.' He walked away without much more of a greeting. Trahearne watched him go, a slight cold feeling in his chest.

.

An unusual group of travellers, two Norn and two Sylvari, were climbing the mountains of the Shiverpeaks in the early hours of the morning. They had left their makeshift encampment for the night behind them, and extinguished the fire with snow. The icy blanket that covered the land came higher than their knees now, and they had to wade through it. The leather straps of the men's armours were soaked, their iron plates covered in a thin layer of crystallized ice.

Caithe shook the ice out from in between her leaves, suddenly longing back to the tropical temperatures of the Grove. She had not spoken much to her companion yet, the cold and exhaustion slowly taking its toll on her. The Norn were faster than them, their long legs wading through the snow more easily than they did, and she struggled to keep up.

A long, pained cry suddenly pierced the cold air. The group stood still, readying their weapons, when another long wail reached them. Ron ran forward, looking over the hill.

'It's coming from the plains', he said, peering through narrow eyes. The sun broke through the misty clouds and he shielded his eyes from the light. 'Knut!' He called over to his friend, 'Tear me some leather strips!'

'What for?' Caithe asked, her voice thin and brittle. She held herself, rubbing her arms and shivering slightly.

'So we don't go snowblind,' Knut said, as he cut out four long, narrow strips of leather, and cut a slit in each one. He bound one over his eyes, tying it with a knot at the back of his head. 'It shields the light reflecting from the snow, and avoids damage to your eyes. It's a Norn trick,' he laughed, as he handed two strips to Caithe. She gave one to Faolain, who took it silently.

'We'll cross the plains, and the lake,' Ron decided. 'It's generally in the right direction, and I want to know what made that sound.'

Caithe felt strange with the leather over her eyes. It was thick and warm and it smelled like animal still. The strip lay heavy on her eyelids, and filtered out most of the light. She could see better, the snow seemed sharper and more clearly defined against the misty-white clouds, but she missed a large part of her peripheral vision. It made her uneasy.

'Don't take it off until we've crossed the lake,' Knut warned, 'especially out on the plain fields a sudden sun reflection can blind you, and leave you vulnerable.'

'Thank you for taking care of our eyes,' a voice came from behind Caithe. Faolain had laid the strip over her eyes and was tying it behind the back of her head. Caithe could still see her eyes blazing through the narrow slit in the leather, but she sounded dull, and tired.

'How do we cross the lake?' Caithe asked, while walking towards Faolain. She gently rubbed her shoulder, and Faolain leaned in to her touch ever so slightly.

'We walk,' Ron answered simply. Caithe wondered about this briefly, but didn't get a chance to ask as Ron gestured for them to start walking while he and Knut carefully held the cart to descend the hill, onto the plains.

Another cry pierced the air.

The band looked at each other, then fell into a quickened step. Both Norns took a strap of the cart to keep up the high pace. They looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. Knut turned to Faolain.

'Do you think you could-' Faolain dismissed him with a wave of her hand, purple aura starting to form. 'Already on it. Wait for me here.'

She conjured up a couple of clones and let them spread in several directions, running forward. Then she closed her eyes and teleported, appearing twenty metres in front of them, then fourty, then she started to disappear in the mist. Caithe looked around frantically as she slowed down her pace, trying to keep an eye on Faolain. There were no shadows for her to travel through here. She had to remain with the group. The cart came to a halt.

It was silent. For the eternity of several sickening heartbeats, the world was frozen solid, no sound to be heard, no movement to be seen. Caithe sought her lover through the slit in the leather, turning her head to keep track of her surroundings. There was nothing, only misty white.

Then Ron turned the cart, and gestured to the left.

'There she is.' Suddenly Caithe could make out a hazy shape in the mist, the vague silhouette of a bell-shaped dress. As they approached, Caithe saw another form lying next to where Faolain was standing. It was a creature that looked like a bull, with two pairs of horns, that were far from being fully grown yet. It tried to crawl forward on its big front legs, but his flank and behind had been shredded, there were large claw marks and gaping, bleeding wounds on it. It tried to drag its limp lower half forth, groaning in pain every time it stopped to catch its breath. It had left a bloody trail leading into the mountains.

'That poor creature!' Caithe exclaimed, and wanted to kneel next to the animal to tend to its wounds, but it snorted loudly and swung its horns at her. She staggered back.

'Don't get too close!' Knut warned her, then turned to his companion. 'Look at its eyes, Ron. The corruption already has hold of him.' The other Norn nodded grimly. The young bull's eyes were glazed over, white and unseeing. 'Not even the Spirit of Minotaur can help him now.' They exchanged a quick look, then advanced on the animal. Ron took hold of the young minotaur's head, and Knut unsheathed his sword. Caithe cried out in shock.

'Wait!' The two men looked at her, weapon still at the ready. The minotaur bull struggled weakly.

'You cannot just - we have to help him!' Caithe cried, 'Look at how young he is!'

'I'm sorry, Caithe. If he becomes completely corrupted, he may lead a whole corrupted horde into Hoelbrak one day. It's better to end his suffering here.' Knut said, while sadly shaking his head.

'He can still live, he can still- he can _fight the corruption!'_ Caithe ran in front of the minotaur's head and shielded it from Knut's sword with her body. Ron sighed.

'Caithe, this does not concern you.'

'This creature's life concerns me!' She retorted, her voice almost breaking from anger. Caithe could simply not believe what these men were about to do. 'You cannot do this! You, you..!' She sought for words. 'Faolain, say something!'

Faolain had not moved an inch during the conversation. She just stood there, gazing at the scene enfolding before her. Now she looked at Caithe's distressed face, her expression unreadable under the snowmask. She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

'Faolain!' Caithe exclaimed, perhaps even more confused by the fact that her lover did not back her up than that this was actually happening.

'I agree with Ron,' Faolain said, softly. Her voice was low, devoid of any emotion. 'It's better to end its suffering now.' She paused for a moment. 'Before anyone gets hurt.'

'Faolain,' Caithe said, her voice filled with confusion and disappointment, '_all things have a right to grow!_'

Faolain scoffed. 'Yes, but one must _never_ _let a wrong ripen into evil_, isn't that so?' Caithe just stared at her with wide eyes. Faolain walked towards her, and grabbed Caithe's arm. She pulled her away from the bull, and immediately Knut brought his sword down. The bull only made a slightly surprised sound before its head was severed from its body.

Caithe jerked her arm loose from Faolain's grip, staring at her. In her chest the feelings of anger and betrayal felt colder than the ice under her feet. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, invisible through the leather mask.

The two men kneeled by the corpse and murmured a prayer to the Spirits of the Wild.

.

The group travelled on in silence. Knut had his brow furrowed, lost in deep thoughts. Ron stared at the road ahead, calculating how much further it would be.

Next to the cart Faolain walked, the movements of her feet barely visible under her dress. She seemed to glide along the group. Caithe stomped way behind the cart, having taken distance on purpose. She didn't know whether she wanted to scream in rage or cry for sadness.

Never had anyone disregarded Ventari's Tablet so carelessly as Faolain had done. Never had she heard its words twisted so mercilessly to mean the opposite of what she thought they meant. Caithe rubbed her temples in confusion, trying to shake the complicated thoughts from her mind.

_They mean what I think they mean. The Pale Tree has explained Ventari's teachings to me herself._

_What if the Pale Tree is wrong?_ Caithe had not even noticed it was Faolain's thought invading her mind. Not until the string of thoughts went in another direction without her consent.

_I'm not saying that it is, but it could be. Why would we blindly follow teachings of a creature long gone? Teachings that leave us vulnerable? That leave our loved ones vulnerable?_

Caithe seethed with anger and distress.

'Faolain!' She suddenly schreeched, her voice more broken than she'd intended it to be, 'The Pale Tree is _not_ wrong!' Faolain stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. She was completely unfazed by the outburst, unlike the two Norn, who looked at each other with shocked expressions.

Faolain smiled. It was a tiny smile that did not reach her eyes.

'Of course, dearheart. If you are certain, then so shall I be.'

Caithe hissed through her teeth, forcibly keeping herself from beating this madness out of Faolain. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, trying to control herself, trembling from all her pent-up emotion. Suddenly Faolain's hands were on her arms and warm lips on her own and she could not help but cling to her lover for the short moment the kiss lasted.

'Don't be afraid, Caithe,' Faolain whispered to her. Caithe let out a breath she had not even noticed she was holding. Had it been fear haunting her? She bit her lower lip, desperately trying to understand. Soon she realized she did not know anymore, all the feelings had dissolved in Faolain's warm presence.

.

'What's this, Whitebear? Lettin' the firewood walk by itself nowadays?' A loud, deep and raspy voice pierced the early dark. The group had crossed the plains and could see the lights of Hoelbrak in the distance. They were so close now.

A group of about twenty large, muscular Norn men appeared from the shadows, partially surrounding them. They were dirty and covered in scars, and even from a distance quite smelly. One particularly large Norn in the middle wore a helmet with antlers mounted on each side of it, one of which had broken off and left a pointy spike. They were loud and jesting and seemed everything but friendly.

Knut straightened his back and replied in a deeper, louder voice than he had previously used during the day.

'What brings you here, Stormbringer? These are not the Svanir hunting grounds.' The men laughed, calling names at Knut.

'There's nothing to hunt. It has been a particularly cold winter, and Lord Jormag was hungry.' Stormbringer's companions made agreeing sounds. Knut managed an affronted smile.

'But I see plenty of strong men at your side, Stormbringer. Couldn't Jormag feed on them?' Stormbringer pulled out a large axe and aimed it at Knut.

'Don't taunt me, Whitebear. As you might have seen, you are quite outnumbered.'

'I have,' Knut replied, painfully polite but still with an air of superiority. Stormbringer walked over to him, walked around the cart, and spat on the ground. 'Well, let's see what you got with you today, Wussbear.' The Sons of Svanir laughed, and slowly closed in on them as well. Knut pulled out his sword and pointed it at Aldus Stormbringer's chest, mere centimetres from actually touching him.

'This is not your property,' he growled. Suddenly Knut seemed taller than he had been before. Stormbringer held up his hands mockingly, taking a step back, feigning fear.

'Woah, woah. No need to get prickly, princess.' He strolled around the back of the cart, slowly closing in on the Sylvari. Caithe tried to step back, but the men had surrounded the cart, only leaving room for their leader to walk. Ron tried to get over to them , but one of the men jabbed him in the side with a rusty dagger, warning him not to move. Caithe stood her ground, Faolain at her side.

'So what are these?' Stormbringer asked, his crew laughing with him, as if he had made a joke. He made a move to step closer to the Sylvari, but Faolain stepped forward, ripping off her snowmask, her fingertips sparking with purple. She looked at him, challenged him with a single glance.

'Do not get any closer.' Her voice dripped venom. 'Faolain, back down!' Knut barked at her, never taking his eyes off of Stormbringer. The filthy Norn was more than amused.

'Oh, the twig's got attitude.' He snorted and made a move to step forward, but once he looked at Faolain's face again, he hesitated. He stepped back, immediately picking up his air of nonchalance and leadership again. 'Tell ya what, Wussbear.' Knut growled at him from the back of his throat, a low, threatening sound. '...What.'

'Ya can keep ya loot today. Just gimme the twigs and you're free to go. They'd do great in our fighting pit!' Ron inhaled sharply through his nose, and Knut growled even deeper. Caithe's gaze flew back and forth between the three men, her hands already on her daggers. Faolain was completely silent, but she still had her piercing stare on Stormbringer, unwavering. Her fingers twitched.

'Stormbringer,' Knut roared, 'I've kicked your ass once and I will do it again. You and your fighting pit are corrupting the land and those who dwell here. You are hereby an official threat to Hoelbrak.' He stepped forward, back bent, snarling at his opponent. Stormbringer faked enthusiasm.

'Finally, Wussbear!' Suddenly the two men charged at eachother, but they were no longer men. Knut had taken on the distinct features of a bear, with long claws and bone-shattering jaws. His opponent's eyes turned catlike and snarling, he transformed into a giant snow leopard. Ron turned and took out two of the Sons of Svanir in one blow. The axe in his hand melted into the strong paws of the wolf.

Caithe and Faolain stood shocked, panicking by the sudden start of the full-out brawl. Two Norn grabbed their arms and dragged them away from the fight. Caithe's attacker twisted her wrists immediately, making her drop her daggers in pain, and hit the side of her head. She was knocked face-first onto the frozen ground. Faolain's opponent was a skilled mesmer, who effortlessly turned the Sylvari's own magic against her. In an instant she was pinned on the ground, caught in a signet, unable to move.

Caithe tried to clear her head, but her vision was swimming from the blow, and she felt nauseous. She tried to get up, to lift her head. Not far from her Ron was taking on several of the Norn men, a giant wolf on his hind legs. Knut tore at throats and slashed at bodies so quickly that she could barely see him. The snow leopard attacked him with full force, pushing the bear back.

Caithe struggled to get up, but the ground was slippery underneath her. She looked down and saw the strangest thing. The surface was white, but transparent. She could look down into a dark, deep emptiness. She rolled over, barely dodging another Norn fist. There, under her elbow, a fish was trapped in the ice, staring upwards with an empty, dead gaze. The thought struck her like thunder.

_The lake! We are on the lake!_

Next to her, Faolain coughed and kicked at her oppressor, trying to break through the spell binding her. She managed to shoot magic at his arm and leave a large burned mark. The man yelped and grabbed his sword, slashing at her.

_Faolain! _Caithe used all her energy to channel to her while trying to avoid the blows aimed at her. _I need my daggers!_

Faolain looked at her between rolling over and dodging, quickly scanning the battlefield. Then an almost invisible clone ran into the brawl, luring and confusing the fighting Norn. They followed the hazy clone, swiping their weapons at it, and kicked against the fallen dagger. It slid far enough for Caithe to reach it. She sprinted out from under her attacker, lithe and agile even though she was hurt. Then she lifted the dagger high above her head and brought it down with as much force as she could muster. The dagger pierced the ice.

For a moment nothing happened. But then the ground started to groan, a loud, deep moaning sound, as if from a massive creature. And then the ice began to crack. First there was one crack, splitting the ice, but it grew like the branches of a tree, splitting and duplicating and picking up speed towards the brawling Norn.

Norn aren't stupid. They feel ice like Sylvari feel the forest. As soon as the ice started moving, the brawlers stared at their feet. And in a moment they began running for safer places, still swiping and slashing their weapons. Caithe lifted her dagger from the ice, ran closer, and brought it down again.

One of the back wheels of the heavily loaded cart suddenly sank through the surface, splitting the battleground into several large chunks of loose ice. The men screamed and Stormbringer jumped onto a platform, transforming back to his human self. He called for his men, retreating to solid ground. Ron ran towards the cart and pulled it out of the water, transforming while running, and setting it in the middle of the large ice chunk. Knut got up slowly, deep scratches over his whole body, but he made his way to Ron quickly, and scanned the field for Caithe and Faolain.

Caithe wanted to take a relieved breath when she suddenly heard a stupid sounding, bordering on maniacal laugh behind her. She turned just in time to see her former attacker, now a lone Norn on weak ice, shifting his attention to Faolain, who was writhing in her binding signet still. He ran over to the Sylvari, roaring fiercely as he lifted her by her neck. The sound of Faolain's pained gasp was drowned out by the groan of the strained iceplatform.

He raised his other rocklike fist, and brought it down on the ice in front of him.

'For Jormag!'

Caithe realized too late what was happening. The Norn only smirked as the ice underneath him shattered, and he disappeared into the dark waves, taking his prisoner with him.


	8. Connecting

A/N:Thanks again for the reviews guys, I'm glad you like it so far! :D Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

Faolain could only see her lover's terrified expression as Caithe turned around, saw her crying out her name, but could not hear her. The roaring of the Norn and the creaking of the ice and the deafening drum of her own frightened heartbeat were all she could hear. Then the ice shattered and Faolain fell, saw the inky black substance closing in on her, in a flashing moment that seemed to last for an eternity, in which she felt nothing but fear and regrets.

She felt the pain of crashing into the water before she felt the cold, the air harshly knocked out of her. Then it merged into the pain of aching muscles, suddenly stiffened and rapidly losing their ability to move. She felt the weight of the Norn cling to her, pull her down. The weight of the water pressed on her lungs.

She opened her eyes. Everything around her was black. She would have moved her arms had she not been paralyzed by the cold. Only above her, the shattered fragments of the ice let through some light. She was sinking rapidly, sorely missing her breath by now.

Darkness surrounded her body and began clouding in her mind. The Norn sank faster than she did, and held her with cramped fists, as much paralyzed by the cold as she was. Faolain looked up again, towards the cracked ice.

She was not afraid, she realized. Her heartbeat had slowed down, to the point if she wondered if it was even beating at all. She thought of Caithe. Images flew by before her eyes. Caithe's warm smile, or Caithe crying, Caithe fighting for what was important to her. And then she realized.

_Not like this._

_Not without her._

.

Caithe cried out and ran towards the platform's edge, jumping over the smaller ones and falling to her knees at the huge hole in the ice. She peered into the dark water, crying Faolain's name, desperately trying to see her. She had vanished in a matter of seconds. Behind her she heard the heavy footsteps of Knut approaching. He called out to her, throwing off his heavy armour.

'Do you see her?' He threw off his shin armours as well.

'No!' Caithe cried to him, her whole body shaking, 'I don't see anything!'

'I'll go in,' Knut decided resolutely, struggling with the last of his armour. Ron appeared behind him, pulling him back by his arm.

'Are you mad? You'll surface as likely as she will. She's gone, Knut!' Caithe let out a tormented cry.

'That cannot be true! I'll go in!' She looked at the water again, so dark, so deep. She hesitated for just a moment, before Ron also pulled her back.

'What good will your death do her, Caithe?' He roared, his eyes narrower than Caithe or Knut had ever seen them. He towered over them, holding them both.

A sudden shockwave threw back the platform of ice, shaking the three, only Ron managed to stay on his feet. Caithe's eyes widened as a blast of purple light illuminated the lake to the bottom for a second. Fish of various terrifying sizes were blinded and spurted away, when the darkness returned the whole lake seemed to be mewling and moving.

'Faolain!' Caithe called out, leaning over the edge of the platform, bravely facing the water now. She pushed her head under the surface, spreading out her arms, her eyes wide open, looking for another sign of the other Sylvari. The lake trembled. Caithe cried Faolain's name again, for pure frustration, for fear, the sound getting lost in the cold water. Then she felt a hand grab hers, and saw blazing eyes looking into her own.

Caithe jerked back and pulled up, helped by Knut who had held her legs. After her, Faolain surfaced, gasping for air, and struggling to get up on the platform.

'What?' Ron was taken aback, but immediately helped pull the Sylvari up on the platform. Caithe sat on her knees, pulling Faolain in her embrace, sobbing into her shoulder. Her lover was ice cold, trembling all over. Faolain clutched Caithe weakly, her breathing laboured, and she stared into the distance over Caithe's shoulder. It seemed to take a few seconds before she realized what had happened and she pulled Caithe closer, whining softly. Caithe held her, whispering the same words to her over and over.

'It's all right, it's all right..'

Knut quickly discussed with Ron as he threw his discarded armour on the cart.

'We need to bring them to Hoelbrak quickly. And warn the travellers not to cross the lake for a while. The ice will be thin for at least a week. ' Ron nodded, and took off his mantle. He wrapped it around the Sylvari and picked them up. Caithe was very uncomfortable, with Faolain pressed against her in the arms of this large man, but she was thankful for the warmth it provided.

Suddenly, through the shivering and the slowly receding fear, she smiled, and stroked Faolain's cheek.

'Look at you. You look like a drowned cat.' She couldn't hold back a grin, and she saw Faolain smile weakly as well.

'At least my hair doesn't look like an old wet mop,' she replied, and they both broke into a chuckle. Faolain's shaking hands found Caithe's and she held them, just looking into her eyes. Then her smile faded and shifted into a serious expression, her eyes fixating on Caithe's.

'I would never leave you like this,' Faolain promised her, her voice soft, but sincere. 'I will never leave you alone, Caithe.' Caithe felt Faolain's hand on her cheek. 'You are everything to me.'

Caithe smiled, tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes. She pressed her forehead against Faolain's, cherishing the simple touch.

'I don't want to lose you,' she whispered back.

Suddenly the wheels of the cart creaked, and Knut's boots made a different sound on the snow. They looked up to see a giant bridge leading into a big, wooden city, waving cloth spun over wide boulevards, the city reaching up into the mountains on both sides.

Knut laughed a relieved laugh.

'My ladies, welcome to Hoelbrak!'

.

A few hours later the group had settled into a large inn, built out of aromatic wood and with a -for Sylvari standards- amazingly high ceiling. In the middle a large oven was built, in which a fire blazed, as tall as a small Norn. Around it meat was roasted and cut, filling the inn with smoke and the smells of delicious food.

Caithe and Faolain sat in large chairs against the wall, wrapped in thick wolf hides. The innkeeper was a large Norn woman with brown hair, which she wore in a large braid on her back. She had found it a personal affront to see her guests so cold and unfed, and had scolded Knut and Ron extensively, reminding them what true hospitality was. Caithe slightly pitied them as they stood there, their hands on their backs and scraping their feet, heads humbly bowed. They suddenly looked exactly like little boys being scolded by their mother.

The innkeeper then returned her attention to the Sylvari, and brought them steaming meat from the roast, which they happily dug into. Then she catered to the two Norn, apparently already having forgiven them, and took a seat.

She ran her eyes over the battered group. Faolain and Caithe were still shivering, and both Ron and Knut were battleworn. Knut even had a deep gash over his cheek.

'That must have been quite a trip,' she concluded. 'Let me bring you some ale and then I want to hear the whole story.' Faolain's head snapped up. 'Ale?' Caithe burst out in snickers.

'Do you also have something less.. hallucinative?' She asked the innkeeper. The woman laughed. 'Lightweights, eh? I bet Knut taught you how it's done already. Don't worry girl, I'll get you two some Dolyak milk.'

Caithe nor Faolain had ever heard of a Dolyak, let alone seen one, but they were too tired and cozy to care about it right now. 'Thank you, madam,' Faolain smiled.

It was getting late, and more Norn were coming into the inn. Once they recognized Knut and Ron, they came over, bashing their shoulders as a friendly greeting, hovering over them and pulling up chairs as they laughed and talked in low, loud voices. Caithe studied their behaviour, it was so vastly different from the stiff mannerisms at Divinity's Reach. Here, there were no titles or _madams _or _misters, _here people called their friends by their name, or surname in some cases, or nicknames like _Slayer, _or in one case, even _Ravager. _

And then Knut told of his travels. Watching a Norn tell a tale was truly a sight to behold. Large ale mug in one hand, gesturing with both hands, telling it excitedly, with a loud voice. Ron would join in with details and side remarks, which made the audience roar with laughter, smashing their mugs together ever so often, cheering to one of the events.

Caithe sat with her hand wrapped around her steaming mug of Dolyak milk, sipping it slowly, cozily nestled in her warm wolf hide. Her body had warmed up considerably, and she was smiling and grinning with the audience, just not quite as loudly. She looked at Faolain at her side, who had regained her pleased expression, looking as if she had the world at her feet again. She smiled at Caithe.

They sat there while night fell, enjoying themselves with their coarse, but friendly company. The Norn seemed more interested in whether they would hold out in Hoelbrak, than where they were from. Admittedly it was nice not to have to explain where the Grove was for a change. Norn took their guests as they came, apparently.

Time flew and ale flowed, and by the time Caithe had told of the devourer and the elementals and the Svanir, the Norn had dubbed them little heroes already. There was laughter and a warm fire, and when the stars stood high in the sky, the Norn started making music, celebrating life, the ale and the hunt. Caithe felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Faolain grabbed her wrist, pulling her up.

'Come on. We'll show them some Sylvari culture, too,' she smiled. Caithe grinned and got up with her. The music played and they danced, the Norn clapping and shouting enthusiastically. They swirled and waved a pattern around each other, provoking, seducing. It was a great night.

Far too soon, the sun started rising, and the Norn retreated to their homes. They said goodbye to Knut and Ron, thanking them for all their care, and promising to meet again. Ron went to sell the prizes of his hunt, and Knut retreated to the Great Lodge, picking up his ministerial duties again. Finally, exhausted, they collapsed on the large double bed in a room in the inn, which Knut had rented for them. It was made to accommodate two Norn, and could therefore easily have fit four to five Sylvari. They rolled over it playfully, bouncing in the soft sheets. They could rest. And so they did, fingers entwined, never more connected than right now.

.

A young asura assistant hung up her coat in a corner of her room. It was small, at the top of one of the Rata Sum pyramids. All Inquest assistants had rooms there, to study and sleep. The rest of the day they'd work, so they did not need much space. There were two beds, one for her, and one for her roommate. There were two small desks as well. One was neat and organized, the other was scattered with different papers. She sighed. She knew she needed to keep master Kudu's project a secret. Yet with all the pressure on her, she barely had time to sleep, let alone clean up.

The notes and observations of the strange creature in the laboratory down below filled up her small desk. She grabbed a clipboard and added the new ones, stacking all the papers. It was something, at least.

Idly, she went through them. Master Kudu insisted on doing biological research on the creature, yet he had not wanted to dissect him, for fear that he would die. With Gixx on his tail, that could have bad consequences. They already covered up their research as much as they could, she ended up patching the thing up after every session. Not without reason, she'd heard Gixx had already arrived at the Durmand Priory's base in Shiverpeaks, so once he was finished there, he would return to Rata Sum.

They would lose their subject. She wasn't sure if she was pained by this or not. The plant-man intrigued her immensely, yet, on the other hand, she could not stand hearing him scream. He sometimes muttered things that interested her more than what made his legs move or what pumped his blood. She suspected there to be so much more. Kudu didn't see that.

If she would lose him, he would not be in pain any more. But she would also never know. Sighing, she glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. In six hours, she'd have to be up and working again.

She could not stand not knowing, either. She picked up her coat and went downstairs, leaving all her notes behind. This would be her own research.

.

The labs were cold, and quiet at this hour. She grabbed the keys she needed to keep for Kudu, they weren't hers, obviously, he would never give her something so valuable, and she opened the double-locked door quietly. She locked it behind her, putting the keys in the cabinet. The Sylvari was still chained on the table, the mask over his face. She stood, watching, for a moment, doubting whether she was going to regret this. Then she shook her head and stepped forward. She had already started, she would not leave her business unfinished. Asura rarely do.

Carefully, she took the mask off the man's face. He groaned softly.

'Are you awake?' She asked him. He raised his eyebrows slightly.

'Unfortunately, yes.' He slowly opened his eyes, registering that the female asura was alone this time. He had never seen her alone before, it was always either the male, or the male and the female. Usually the latter.

'So you understand me?' She asked again. She seemed weary. The man nodded.

'It's more difficult when you two drug me. But now, I understand you. Perfectly clear.' The asura came closer now, her eyes with wonder.

'Who taught you to speak?' The man raised his eyebrows at this.

'My mother, of course.' The asura nodded, her eyes still wide.

'Who is your mother?'

'The mother tree, the Pale Tree in the Grove.'

'A tree. Right.' It was silent for a moment . The man smiled.

'Then who taught you to speak? And who gave you your name? I hope it's not that man who is always so unnecessarily unkind to you. '

The asura shook her head violently. 'N-no! He's not a relative of mine.' Then she suddenly realized something.

'Wait, name- you have a name?' She squeaked. The man sighed.

'Yes. My name is Malomedies.'

'Malomedies.' She repeated it slowly. He smiled at her.

'Pleasure to meet you.' It was a little ironic, but he seemed to try to be sincere.

The asura stood stunned, her heart beating loudly in her chest. It was not just an intelligent creature, it was at least as intelligent as a human, probably more intelligent than a Norn, even. She looked around, dazed for a moment by the discovery.

'Do you wish me to untie you?' She offered. Malomedies looked up gratefully.

'Does that mean I can leave? There's someone waiting for me at home.' She shook her head slowly.

'No, you cannot leave. But it may make your stay more comfortable.'

Malomedies' smile fell from his face. The asura apologized softly.

'I thought-' He started, as she did at the same time. 'He can't-' They both fell silent, then Malomedies sighed.

'Ladies first.'

'Kudu can't find out about this. He can't know I was here.'

'Then I won't tell him.'

'Promise you won't leave when I untie you?'

'I cannot promise you that.' Malomedies sighed. 'You lot are not exactly hospitable.'

'I just want you to be more comfortable so I can talk to you more.'

'Fine.' He agreed, in the end. She walked around the table and untied his hands first, by slipping a small silver key into the lock and opening it. Then she walked to the other side and untied his feet. Slowly, groaning and muttering under his breath, Malomedies sat up, rubbing his painful wrists, and stretching his back. The asura had pulled up a chair, her hands resting in her lap.

'So.' Malomedies concluded, lightly massaging his painful legs, and then carefully moving them to hang over the edge of the table. His vision blurred in and out of focus, he had not been sitting up for so long.

'Tell me something,' the asura said, friendly yet demanding.

'What would you like to know?' He retorted. Malomedies was so very tired, even more so because the spark of hope he'd had for just a moment, had been taken away from him so cruelly.

'Tell me about..' the asura thought for a moment. Then she remembered the one word the man had muttered every time before pain overtook him. 'Tell me about Kahedins.'

Malomedies eyes widened as he realized what she had said, and sighed again, rubbing his temples. His heart ached with the mentioning of the name. He looked up slowly, reading her face. She seemed sincerely interested, her head resting on her hands, her gaze open, earnest.

'Fine,' he said, his voice soft. 'Let me tell you about Kahedins.'

.

The Pale Tree heard footsteps coming up. She looked up to see the first of her Firstborn, coming into the Omphalos Chamber. She sat down on her knees, elegantly, and patted the spot before her, beckoning her son to sit with her. He did as was asked of him.

'Mother,' Trahearne said, 'I must go. My dream has showed me where I should go. I will leave for Orr.'

The Pale tree caressed his cheek. 'Will you leave tonight?'

'Yes, mother.' Trahearne nodded, and the Pale Tree gave him a sad smile.

'Kahedins will be sad to see you go,' she said. Trahearne swallowed audibly. He did not speak.

'Very well then, my child,' the Pale Tree spoke. 'Then go. And be safe.' Trahearne stood up and walked towards the bridge that led down into the Grove.

'Thank you, Mother. Until we meet again.'


	9. In Hoelbrak

A/N: My apologies for the delay. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

The Sylvari ended up sleeping for most of the day and the next night, exhausted as they were from the trip and the unfamiliar temperatures. When finally the new morning dawned, Caithe woke with the chirping of the few birds that lived in this harsh climate.

She climbed out of bed, careful not to rouse her partner, and sat at the windowsill. She gazed outside, where the snow was slowly being illuminated by the rising sun. It was still grey, but soon it would shine white again. The sky overhead was clearer than it had been in days. Small ice crystals had formed at the corners of the window, and Caithe felt the cold creeping in, even through the glass.

She folded her hands around her knees and rested her chin on them. The events of the last days had dulled the memories of the fight she'd had with Faolain. Yet now she had time to think about it, Caithe noticed that it stung her.

She chewed her cheek in thought, as she relived the last moments of the suffering minotaur. Faolain pulling her back, that coldness in her eyes, that had not been there before. Ventari's tablet.

The Tablet had always held unconditional truths to Caithe. To think that it wasn't, that it need not be that, scared her. She caught herself fearing that Faolain might use it against her again, and scolded herself for it.

_It must have been the cold, the journey, the_-

'You are awake,' came a soft voice from the bed. Faolain sat up, yawning, setting her back against the big pillows. Caithe looked up slowly, her gaze lingering on Faolain. Then she nodded.

'What troubles you?' Faolain read her effortlessly. The shiver that it caused to run up Caithe's spine only added to her feeling of guilt. She closed her eyes, sighed, then got up and sat on her knees on the bed, across from Faolain.

'I must know,' Caithe stated, drawing the attention of her partner. Their eyes met for a moment, then Caithe continued.

'Faolain, do you or do you not follow Ventari's Tablet?' Her eyes bore into Faolain's. For a moment, they were interlocked in a stare, fierce from Caithe's side, calculating from the other's. Then Faolain looked away, shaking her head lightly.

'I do, Caithe,' she took a small moment to breathe, 'but sometimes I cannot help but wonder. Yes, Ventari's Tablet is one way, but there are more to consider,' she gestured lightly with one hand, 'like the ways of the humans or the Norn, for example. I'm not saying we should adopt their ideology, but is it wrong to be interested in them?' Caithe pondered that for a moment.

'It feels wrong to me,' she said, finally, 'because our way of thinking is such a large part of who we are. As a people.' Faolain seemed displeased at this answer. Slowly Caithe continued her sentence. 'But I guess..we can study them. Even though I'm sure the Pale Tree has treasured the Tablet for a reason.' Faolain laid back in her pillows.

'One may hope. But I don't trust anyone blindly if not you, Caithe,' Caithe raised her eyebrows at this, 'and the Pale Tree is rooted in the Grove. We are here, we are exploring this vast world before us. Maybe the Tablet does not apply to every situation everywhere. And if that is so, we need to be prepared.'

'It will, if you just want it to,' Caithe retorted, slightly offended. After a short moment, Faolain got up from the bed and threw on her dress over her head. Then she turned her back with the opened bodice towards Caithe.

'Be a dear and lace me up, would you?' she asked, her voice velvety and seductive once more. Caithe complied, pulling the fine laces tight and knotting them neatly.

They did not speak of the matter again.

.

Caithe and Faolain were about to leave the inn when a deep, feminine voice halted them.

'Going out, darlings?' The Sylvari looked over their shoulders to see the innkeeper, bent over one of the wooden tables, cleaning it roughly with a very worn rag. Caithe nodded excitedly.

'We are going to see the city, and outside,' she answered, one hand still on the door. The innkeeper laughed.

'Like that?' Caithe and Faolain looked at each other, a little confused.

'Yes?' Faolain tried, carefully. The innkeeper laughed again and put down her filthy rag. She gestured them to follow her, and they went into one of the backrooms, normally off-limits for guests.

'I thought so. I made you two something, because you are a great attraction. Even when you're not downstairs I get double my normal customers. So take it, it's a gift.' She produced a thick hide stack from a cabinet. She split it and handed each Sylvari one half. On further inspection, they happened to be thick wolfskin mantles, with the water-resistant hide on the outside, and the warm fur as lining. The capes had hoods and draped perfectly over the Sylvari's shoulders.

'They are children's size, but they fit you better than I thought,' the Norn smiled warmly. Faolain's eyes glistened, and even Caithe was impressed with the neatness of the stitching and the quality of the workmanship put into these mantles.

'Thank you so much,' cried Faolain, Caithe falling into much the same. The Norn wouldn't have any of it.

'Don't thank me. I should be thankful- the longer you two don't freeze out there, the more customers I get. Now, off with you, I have plenty to do.' The Sylvari kept thanking her until she forcefully ushered them out the door. The mantles kept them a lot warmer, and Caithe felt excited to be out here, adventuring again. Faolain ran a few steps into the snow, playfully twirling around, her cape dancing around her.

Caithe smiled, and grabbed her hand as they climbed the hill towards the city centre.

.

The Centre of Hoelbrak was huge. It was like a giant boulevard made of wood, suspended on the steep hill. Large banners of cloth covered parts of the boulevard against snow and cold, and in the middle two huge stairs led up to another floor. If you walked between the stairs towards the back of the boulevard, you could see an immensely tall double door, easily three Norn high, which formed the entrance to the Great Lodge. Caithe and Faolain stood at the side edge of the boulevard, staring wide eyed at the sheer size of it all.

As they began walking over the boulevard, looking at the many craft stations settled there and checking out the merchandiser's wares, they constantly had to dodge the towering Norn in fear of getting trampled. It was more than once that they got shoved out of the way with an offhand grunt, or almost squashed between the hordes of Norn. The Norn simply didn't seem to notice them.

Caithe wore her hood against the cold, and so somehow understood the Norn mistaking her for a child, as they could not see her face. It made the situation no less unpleasant though. Caithe pulled Faolain away from the stands to relative safety. She felt Faolain was annoyed, as well. They continued walking, looking at the stalls from a distance now.

In the corner of her eye Caithe saw the faint glittering of metal. As she turned to look at it, Hoelbrak was made of wood, not metal, she noticed it was jewelry of some sorts, lying at one of the support beams a few metres away. It caught the rays of the sun and reflected it in shining blue and purple. Caithe walked towards it and picked it up, weighing the trinket in the palm of her hand. It was heavier than she'd expected.

As she opened her hand to look at it, she found it to be a small golden locket, delicately ornamented. She tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly Faolain took it from Caithe and looked at the locket up close.

'Where did you get this?' She asked, pleasantly intrigued by the fine piece of jewelry.

'I found it, right there,' Caithe answered, not sure if she wanted to take the locket back from Faolain. She reached out to grab it, but Faolain moved out of the way.

'One moment. I want to look at it,' she mumbled, and Caithe crossed her arms affrontedly. Frankly, she wanted it back. Then a noise shifted her thoughts away from the locket and she looked over her shoulder to see what had startled her. On the unsheltered balcony of the boulevard two Norn men stood facing each other, each one shouting, slamming his fists against his chest and shoving the other. A noisy crowd quickly gathered on either side of the brawler, cheering them on and throwing oil on their fires of rage.

Faolain was holding the pendant up to the light now, murmuring to herself, her back turned towards the fight. Caithe kept an eye on the brawl behind them, dangerously close now. The men had charged at each other and with a few well-placed blows they were both spitting blood. Neither seemed to find that discouraging, to Caithe's surprise. They attacked each other with even more ferocious enthusiasm than before.

Then Faolain placed the pendant back in the palm of her hand, tapped it once, and it clicked open. It was empty. She looked disappointed.

'Nothing... Sometimes these contain a spell of some sorts-'

Caithe interrupted her by grabbing her lover's shoulder, trying to get Faolain's attention without taking her eyes off the brawl. She wanted to get out of here.

'Faolain, we have to go-' Faolain turned and opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by her own gasp as Caithe suddenly pulled her to the side. One of the fighting Norn was slammed towards them, flying several metres through the air and landing next to the Sylvari. They scrambled backwards, astonished by the sight of the bleeding Norn still trying to stand up after being kicked across the boulevard. Caithe looked at Faolain's face, who was staring with dropped jaw at the fallen Norn, and grinned. She had not even noticed the brawl taking place.

'Do they do this more often?' Faolain asked, softly, her tone exasperated. The Norn had completely regained his footing now and shouted drunkenly at his opponent, before charging in again and getting hit in the stomach. The sound he made sounded nothing short of alien.

'Apparently,' Caithe grinned, 'and that man could have bodyslammed you if it were not for me.'

'I can always count on you, thankfully,' Faolain smiled, then handed Caithe back the locket. 'Here, you can have it back.' Caithe looked at it once, then feigned a pout.

'You got it open? Ah, thorns. I wanted to see what was inside,' Caithe contemplated throwing the locket back on the ground, but then placed it back in Faolain's hand.

'You get rid of it.' The Norns had attacked each other again, still cheered on by a quickly growing audience. The cheers of names almost drowned out the sounds of battle. Caithe sat up and tried to see what was happening trough the mass of people, and didn't notice Faolain quietly slipping the locket into the bodice of her dress.

The bellowing voice of a woman suddenly pierced the noise of the Norn crowd. 'Are you all mad? Fighting at the Traders' Common? Have you no honour? Take this duel outside!'

'Let's get out of here, before they get mad at us too,' Caithe said, and Faolain nodded. They tried to get up and run inconspicuously, away from the fight, towards the entrance of the Great Lodge. Before they entered the large double doors that led inside, Caithe looked back, a quick glance, just once. A Norn woman had split the two brawlers up, holding them from attacking each other again with her outstretched arms. Her hair, in a long braid sweeping behind her, was blazing red, like fire. At her heels a dark wolf, as tall as the Sylvari, growled at whoever dared approach her.

Caithe held her breath for a moment as she gazed at her, then turned and followed Faolain inside. The door slammed behind them, the vibrations still noticeable for several seconds after.

.

The Great Lodge was relatively quiet, even though it was crowded. Norn sat, grouped together, speaking with hushed voices. On the upper floors Norn could find rest from their endless hunt. On the lowest floor, straight across from the doors, a giant crystal stood mounted to a pedestal. Caithe recognized it as the tooth of Jormag, that one of the ancient Norn heroes smacked from the Dragon's beak itself. Knut and Ron had told her all about it.

Faolain slowly lowered her hood and looked around. The great wooden hall stretched out like a giant cave. They walked in, settling themselves at one of the tables.

Caithe sighed, a little tired from all the commotion. She felt Faolain's hand on hers on the table.

'The world truly is,' Caithe hesitated, 'fascinating. But very tiresome at times.' Faolain smiled at her.

'It's worth the effort, in the end.'

'Do you think it will be?' Caithe asked, more because she wanted hear what Faolain would answer, than out of insecurity. Faolain gave her hand a short, loving squeeze.

'Every day shapes us more into what we were meant to be. We follow a path, with nothing but a cryptic Dream to guide us.' She thought for a moment. 'And more than that, we have each other.' Caithe looked at her, waiting for her to continue. Faolain averted her gaze, idly tracing the many marks and damages in the wooden table.

'If you think about what makes us unique,' she then mused, 'then a large part of what makes me, is you. I differ from our brothers and sisters through my love for you.' She looked up and gently stroked Caithe's cheek. 'And so do you differ from them through your love for me.' Caithe smiled, grasping the hand on her cheek softly, so that they now held both hands.

'Our Dream also shapes us, from the very beginning. You can't discard that as unimportant.' She grinned. Faolain chuckled in response.

'Importance is just a matter of perspective,' she said. Her words lingered for a moment.

'Faolain,' Caithe said, her voice low, almost a whisper, 'what exactly did you dream?' Faolain opened her mouth to answer, hesitated, then closed it again. Caithe reassuringly held her hands tighter, trying to urge her on.

'I'm not sure where to start,' Faolain said, averting her gaze, only fueling Caithe's curiosity. Caithe nodded, then decided to help her.

'I'll start, then. In my dream, I.. I battled a great evil.' Caithe looked at Faolain, and was pleased to see the other met her gaze, and listened. 'An Elder Dragon.' Faolain's eyes widened for a moment.

'By yourself?'

'Yes.' Caithe said. 'That would never work, though. But I must fight it.' After a short silence, she added, 'Somehow.'

Faolain smiled at her. 'I will be by your side.' Caithe smiled back.

'Tell me about your Dream, Faolain.' Caithe asked, and Faolain nodded.

'I sought,' she began, voice soft, 'I sought for-'

A gnarly, high-pitched male voice interrupted them.

'Why, my ladies.' Both Sylvari looked up to see who stood at their table. Big, yellow eyes looked back at them.

'What an exquisite coincidence to meet you again here!' Gixx said.

.

Not much later Gixx had pulled up a chair and settled himself with them. His tormented human companion still did everything he asked, and later turned out to be his pupil. Apparently being a servant was part of the learning process. Caithe decided not to question it, for politeness sake.

'So, how did you ladies end up in Hoelbrak?' He asked them, taking a small sip of his drink.

'We travelled with Minister Whitebear and his friend,' Caithe answered, 'but we arrived only a few days ago. We met some ...distractions, along the way.' Faolain just sat with her hands folded neatly on the table, listening to the conversation going on.

'Ah! You went by foot? That must have been quite the trip!'

'Yes, it was great!' Caithe smiled. Gixx raised his eyebrows at her.

'You could have just gone by gate, though. Have you ever travelled though the asura gates?' When both Sylvari shook their heads, a smile appeared on Gixx face as he started to explain.

'Well, the gates are an asura invention. Basically what we do is just change the influx of particles on both sides to warp the fabric of space and time, to make an interdimensional gate, which means one can travel thousands of miles within a single step.'

'Sounds logical.' Caithe answered. 'I would love to see that!' Gixx stared at her for a moment.

'I've never met a non-asura that understood the workings of the gates before,' he said slowly, trying if she was jesting him or not.

'Oh, I'm not sure if I know what all these things are,' Caithe smiled, 'but the way you explained it, sounded like it made sense.'

'It does.' Gixx sniffed.

'Well, then I understand.' Caithe concluded. Faolain chuckled behind her hand, then straightened out her face again into her polite smile.

'So, magister Gixx,' she began, 'you are from Rata Sum, correct?'

'That is indeed correct, miss.'

'Is there a gate to Rata Sum? I would love to see your hometown, and if we can travel by gate, we'll have two interesting experiences at once,' she smiled lightly, her tone friendly, but somehow it had a very slight undertone, in which it became clear that she would not like a negative answer. Gixx stroked his chin in thought.

'There is indeed a gate to Rata Sum. We'd have to go via Lion's Arch, hmm,' he thought for a moment, then smiled. 'Well. It just so happens that I need to return to Rata Sum as well, so if you'd let me, I'd gladly show you around. I just need to finish my business here first, for the Durmand Priory,' he nodded, more to himself than to them. Caithe clapped her hands.

'We would very much appreciate that, magister!'

'What business for the Durmand Priory, if I may ask?' Faolain added sweetly. Gixx smirked, and shook his head.

'I'm afraid that information is confidential, miss,' he said, with a slight air of arrogance. Caithe could have sworn she saw Faolain frown the slightest bit, but she recovered in an instant.

'I understand,' she said, then raised her hand to look at her nails. Gixx snickered, then turned to Caithe again.

'Shall we say, we travel in a day's time? It should be plenty of time for me, and then you ladies have time to get packed and finish anything else you still wanted to do?' Caithe glanced at Faolain, who nodded with a smile, and then she turned to Gixx.

'Tomorrow sounds perfect to me.'

'It's a deal then.' Gixx nudged his quiet human companion, who quickly rummaged around in his pockets and gave Gixx a pen and a small notebook. He scribbled down 'R.S.; 24 hours', then greeted the Sylvari politely, and took his leave. Caithe watched him go, wobbling quickly on his little legs.

Faolain sighed contentedly.

'It'll be a nice change from the cold,' she said, stroking Caithe's hand.

'I don't mind the cold so much,' Caithe answered with a smile. Faolain idly plucked at the seam of her wolfskin mantle.

'I guess not,' she mused, 'and I will miss wearing these..' Caithe chuckled at that.

'You really have taken a liking to clothing,' she said, teasingly. Faolain looked away. Caithe could have sworn she was blushing.

.

Gixx frowned, deep in thought as he walked away. In a day's time he'd return to Rata Sum. Now that the ladies would travel with him, he'd need to confront Kudu immediately. He'd sent him letters quite often, but all had gone unanswered. It only deepened his suspicions.

If Kudu had indeed acquired an unfortunate relative of them, it could have grave consequences. Gixx did not know how many Sylvari there were, where they had come from, how they came to be. He would find answers to all this in due time. But Kudu... Kudu might have gone too far with his curiosity already. If anything, it could escalate and lead to war.

How would the Sylvari react if Kudu had killed one of their race? Would they just replace the fallen one? Would they want revenge? He shook his head.

This was all speculation, of course. Perhaps Kudu had indeed acquired some mutated Jungle Wurm and gotten himself killed by now. It would be his own fault for taking on things that were too big for him.

Gixx grinned at the thought, yet in the back of his mind, he felt uneasy. He beckoned his human companion and walked towards his guestroom, where he had his notes. He'd have a lot to think about tonight.


	10. The Storm

A/N: Oh wow, thanks so much for all the reviews! These opinions really help me improve the story, so thanks again!

* * *

Malomedies heard the door to his prison open. The sun had already set long ago, and he'd been drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours. The mask was carefully lifted from his face and he looked into the asura assistant's wide eyes. Malomedies smiled at her. Their nightly encounters had become routine already, and were admittedly a lot more pleasant than the daily ones. The assisstant never hurt him, but she showed him the magic of numbers and calculation - which interested him immensely.

'Do you not need to sleep?' he asked her. She had bags under her eyes, but shook her head.

'I want to make the most of our time,' she said, which made Malomedies cringe a little. He looked up in surprise however when she continued. 'Gixx' return won't be long now. He was right all along.' She sighed. 'You will be free soon.'

Malomedies smiled widely, for the first time in a long time. He had stopped counting the days long ago, for fear of depressing himself to death.

'How come? Why are you releasing me?' The assistant laughed wryly.

'Because Gixx is going to force my master to treat you as he should. He can't go on with this façade of pretending you're a Jungle Wurm or some other half-sentient lifeform. He has no right to go on like this any longer.' She shook her head slowly. 'You'd wonder why I still call him my master.'

'That is indeed curious,' Malomedies agreed. 'How come this Gixx knows what I am?' He asked then, curiously, as she untied him and he sat up. He lifted his badly damaged left leg with his hands and carefully swung it over the edge of the table, wincing when a sudden pain shot up his leg. The assistant noted it, and turned to rummage in the cabinet without speaking. She returned and injected a greenish fluid into the leg. The leg immediately regained some colour, and the pain vanished.

'Thank you,' Malomedies said, a surprised tone in his voice. The asura waved him off.

'Please don't thank me. I have done horrible things to you, as well.' She looked at her feet.

'I cannot deny that.' Malomedies complied. The asura huffed and tried to change the subject.

'So, the Gixx matter. I do not know how he knows about you. He has been away to the Shiverpeaks, as far as I know. Durmand Priory business. In his letters he described meeting two females, who looked like humanoid plants.' She glanced at him. 'But you do not identify as female, do you?'

'Obviously,' Malomedies answered. 'Two of them, you said? Both female?' He seemed deep in thought, but his eyes sparkled. 'And these Shiverpeaks are far away from here?'

'Very. Wait, I'll show you a map.' She opened the cabinet again, looking in one of the lowest drawers. It was filled with papers and brochures. The tag on the drawer said "Other".

The assistant returned with an old-looking, worn and wrinkled piece of paper, that she unfolded. It was discoloured in large spots and quite obviously not used for a while. Completely unfolded, it showed a delicately drawn map. The asura rotated it so that Malomedies could read it. He looked at it with wonder.

'Here. This,' she circled a dot on the map, 'is Rata Sum, where we are now. And here, ' she circled another point, not far from the city, 'is where we found you.' Then she moved her pen more to the middle of the map, and circled a big portion. 'These are the shiverpeaks. And here is the base of the Durmand Priory, where I assume Gixx is now.'

Malomedies studied the map for a moment.

'How can it be far away? It's no more than a hand's length.' He looked at her with a confused look on his face. She returned his gaze, for a moment just as confused. Then she laughed and shook her head.

'No no no. This is all scaled. This city is not as big as this dot, now is it? You would never fit in the dot.'

'That makes sense,' Malomedies said, softly, still looking at the map. The assistant decided to explain further.

'From here, to where we found you,' she drew a short line on the map, 'is about two days walking. Maybe one with your long legs.' Then she drew a long line towards the area she marked "Shiverpeaks".

'This line is much longer, you see? It is more days of walking.' Malomedies nodded.

'How convenient! So one can calculate the amount of time it will take to go anywhere on this map?'

'Exactly,' the asura nodded, proudly. 'And we use these maps to navigate while traveling.'

'How do you do that?' Malomedies asked, and the asura's face glowed with enthusiasm. She had not had a conversational partner this interested in a long time. She turned the map over to reveal a chart sprinkled with dots and lines.

'This is a star chart. You can use it to determine your position on the map by comparing the rotation of the stars you see at night to the ones on this map.'

'Fascinating!'

The door slammed behind them. Both asura and Sylvari looked up in shock. Master Kudu's eyes sparkled with rage.

'As I thought, my assistant has been sabotaging my work behind my back!'

He screamed at his assistant to get out, and she yelled back, trying to reason with him, tears in the corners of her eyes. Malomedies could only watch as Kudu smacked her face and cruelly shoved her out of the room. Kudu spat on the ground and fired her on the spot. The last the Sylvari saw of her was her tear-stained face before the door closed in front of her.

.

The Inn was crowded the next day. Hunters and warriors in full gear sat, nervously tapping their fingers on the wooden surfaces of the table, sharpening their blades or counting their arrows. Their ale went mostly untouched. Even though it was almost noon, the sky was as black as it had been twelve hours prior. Wind howled around the wooden building, building the snow up quickly around every ledge it could find. It was knee-deep on the ground already. The fires blazed, yet even the Norn shivered once in a while.

The innkeeper knocked softly on the door of the room where her two Sylvari guests slept, holding an oil lamp and carefully coming in.

'Wake up, darlings. I need to you to be travel-ready.'

Caithe shot up, daggers at the ready. Whether Faolain moved faster or had already been sitting up, she didn't know. Slowly, Caithe lowered her daggers when she recognized the innkeeper.

'What is the matter? Why do we need to go?'

'Not yet,' the innkeeper said, in a soothing voice. 'I'll explain downstairs. Please pack your things.' She left the lamp on a bedpost. Caithe looked outside, confused.

'Why in the middle of the night?' She asked, reaching for the lamp.

'It's not night,' Faolain stated softly from her edge of the bed. She stared at the window, into the darkness outside. Caithe followed her gaze, sensing her unease.

'Come downstairs, make sure your belongings are ready for travel. I heard you were planning to depart today anyway?' The innkeeper asked, friendly as always.

'Yes, we are. We will meet with magister Gixx in the afternoon.' Caithe said, getting out of bed. The innkeeper nodded.

'I'll keep you children safe until then.' She closed the door softly behind her as she left, and her footsteps died away on the wooden stairs. The only sound remaining was the howling of the wind and Faolain nervously tapping her fingertips on the windowsill as she stared outside. There was nothing to be seen but deep darkness and snow flying by.

Caithe gently embraced her, her chest leaning against Faolain's warm back, her chin on Faolain's shoulder. She felt the other was tense.

'Does the dark scare you, Caithe?' Faolain whispered, still gazing outside. Caithe squeezed her reassuringly.

'Not the darkness itself,' she answered softly, 'but sometimes I fear what it might conceal.' Faolain leaned into Caithe's touch, slowly nodding. They listened to the moaning wind for a moment.

'It reminds me of the water,' Faolain said. Caithe held her hands, and interlaced their fingers.

'Where you scared then?'

'No,' the simple answer came.

'And now?' Caithe asked, moving back a little so she could look at her lover's face. Faolain did not return her gaze.

'I do not think I ever was,' she trailed off, 'but now I am sure I am not scared.' Now she turned her head, looked at Caithe from the corners of her eyes. 'It's just like daylight, but different.'

'Daylight is much more beautiful. We belong in daylight.' Caithe replied.

'Do we, Caithe of the Cycle of Night?' Faolain jested her, and freed herself from the embrace. She silently picked up her belongings, and Caithe followed her.

.

Wrapped in their wolfskin mantles, they went downstairs. Even more Norn had gathered there now, some standing, some pacing through the inn, slaloming around the others. A Norn woman was oiling and braiding her long, black hair, wrapping thick leather strips around it and curling them up into a big ponytail at the back of her head.

The innkeeper beckoned them, and the Sylvari were seated in a corner, where no Norn fit. She set two mugs of steaming dolyak milk before them and then sat down, speaking to them in a hushed voice.

'You're probably wondering what's going on.' She started, leaning on one arm. Caithe nodded and leaned closer, as if this was some kind of secret no one could know.

'North, far north, there is a deep cave of ice. In it, the champion of the Dragon Jormag resides.'

'Jormag? Who drove the Norn from the north?' Caithe asked. The innkeeper raised her eyebrows at her, and then Caithe quickly added, 'Knut told me.'

'Exactly, that Jormag. His champion is his right hand. Every now and then brave Norn rise up to go and defeat him. Never has one returned.' The woman shook her head, a tormented expression on her face.

'That is, no one has returned alive. The champion collects our warriors and turns them into Icebrood. Frozen beings, driven by only the hatred of the Dragon, that destroy everything that gets in their path. ' The Sylvari saw the sadness in her eyes.

'Once he collects enough warriors, he sends them back here, an Icebrood army. But the Icebrood don't come silently. This storm,' she gestured outside with her head, 'tells us they are coming.'

'Can no one defeat him?' Caithe asked, her eyes wide. The crowd in the inn stirred when the door swung open and a familiar, deep voice echoed through it.

'The archers are at the ready. Warriors, follow me.' Knut's eyes scanned the inn, nodding at the men and women he recognized. His face looked stern, and his eyes had bags under them, as if he had not slept well. The innkeeper roughly shoved her chair back and marched at him, looking him straight into his eyes.

'Whitebear, you have to let me fight alongside you,' she said, her voice strong. Caithe only now noticed there was a dagger in a sheath hanging from her belt. Knut smiled at her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. His tone was strangely patronizing as he spoke to her.

'I cannot let you. Today, your task is to protect the hero you carry inside you, while we protect you.'

'I can still fight!' She hissed through her teeth, seething with anger. The other Norns started exiting the inn, assembling outside.

'What if you die? Will you take your child's future before it has even started?'

'I will not stay back uselessly while you, while Ron-'

'Ron will want his son alive when he returns from this battle!' Knut growled. He saw the last Norn-warrior leave the inn, and grabbed the door, barring the exit. 'And so you will stay here, on my orders!' The door slammed shut, staggering the woman back. She banged on the door with a fist, then turned, unsheathed her dagger and stabbed one of the tables, growling in the back of her throat. She heaved a few times, holding the heft of her blade, then slowly straightened her back and looked outside. Knut walked at the front of the formation, quickly disappearing into the snowstorm.

Caithe had been staring at the ordeal with wide eyes. She walked over slowly as the woman threw herself down on a chair, and felt Faolain follow her.

'What was that all about? Why won't you fight, if it is that important to you?' Caithe asked, quietly. The woman shook her head.

'I'm pregnant.' She stated, the regret clearly audible in her voice, her head resting on her fist, her torso slumped against the chair. Faolain and Caithe exchanged confused glances. The woman caught it and annoyedly sat up.

'I'm with child. What do you not understand about that,' she snarled at them, then her face softened as she saw the Sylvari flinch back at the sound of her voice. She managed a half smile, sighed, and got herself some ale. Her boots clicked on the wooden floor, and Caithe glanced at Faolain, eyebrows raised. Faolain followed the innkeeper with her eyes, but did not speak. Then the woman sat back down, but shoved her chair back and gestured for the Sylvari to come closer. She opened the few lower buttons of her thick canvas shirt, and the slight curve of her belly became visible.

'Here. You can already feel him move, sometimes. My son.' She guided Caithe's hand to her belly and placed it there. Caithe was amazed when she indeed felt movement, only slightly, she really had to concentrate on it, but it was definitely there. Faolain placed her hand next to Caithe's, her expression switching between fascinated and utterly astonished. Suddenly Caithe realized something.

'So that is why children are small, at first, then?' She looked at the innkeeper with a smile. The woman returned her gaze, first confused, then suddenly laughing.

'Yes,' she said, her voice warm again, 'but I take it doesn't go the same way with you?'

'We rose from our seedpods exactly as we are.' Faolain said, tentatively taking her hand off the Norn.

'Ah,' the woman answered, idly rubbing her belly. She buttoned up her shirt again and stood up.

'I have things to do,' she said, 'but I'll escort you to the gate when it's time. Stay inside until then.' Caithe nodded, stepping back, her eyes still wide with wonder. The innkeeper straightened her back and greeted them offhandedly as she took her half-empty ale mug with her into the back chambers.

Caithe looked at Faolain, who still had this mixed expression on her face. She placed her hand on Faolain's stomach and grinned at her.

'Well, that must be what the Pale Tree feels like, carrying all the new pods,' she said, and Faolain smacked her hand away.

'Caithe, that is just terrifying. How can you even think something like that?'

'I remember you wanting to be in her footsteps?'

'I changed my mind.'

'You are a coward,' Caithe teased her, but Faolain turned and looked at her with dangerously narrowed eyes. Caithe's smile fell from her face, as she sensed she had gone too far. Faolain stepped forward and held Caithe's chin in her fingers, her eyes boring into each other's, their faces almost touching.

'You are nothing without me, Caithe,' she hissed. Faolain radiated anger. Caithe's eyes were wide, and she felt paralyzed and shocked.

For the first time, when she felt Faolain lean in and warm lips touch her own, she was not sure if she enjoyed it.

.

The day did not clear at all, and a few hours later it was still pitch-black outside. The innkeeper had a thick mantle around her own shoulders now as well, and she held open the door for the Sylvari to step outside. Caithe emerged and was immediately blown back against the wooden walls by the storm. The innkeeper grabbed her by her collar and pulled her back, shielding her from the wind with her body. Faolain joined them silently. They had not spoken since their fight.

Caithe saw Faolain throw her a quick glance, and felt her breath hitch for a moment. Faolain'd looked sad. If anything, Caithe had expected her to either still be fuming or to have forgiven her, not this forlorn expression that seemed so alien on her face. The innkeeper set a fast pace, just slowing down enough for the Sylvari to keep up, towards the city centre. It wasn't far to the Great Lodge, where they'd meet Gixx, but the storm made it hard to move, and even harder to navigate. They all had to hold their hoods up to shield their eyes from the flying shards of ice and debris. The snow wasn't white anymore, it was brown and mixed with dirt and soil that had been lifted up by the storm.

They waded through the snow, the innkeeper making a path through it wide enough for the Sylvari to follow. Finally they reached the bridges of the boulevard and climbed them, their cloaks soaked with near-freezing water and their feet covered in dirt. Faolain swung the door to the Great Lodge open and they stumbled in, lavishing in the generous warmth of the Lodge.

Norn rushed towards them, especially trying to support the innkeeper, who swatted them away with an annoyed sound. Then she turned to the Sylvari.

'Well, I am going back,' she said, dropping to one knee so she could look both Sylvari in the eye. 'But if you ever visit Hoelbrak again, you're most welcome in the inn. You know where to find me.' Caithe hesitated for a moment, but then embraced her, thanking her softly for all her care. Faolain bowed deeply. The woman ruffled Caithe's leafy hair.

'Don't thank me, darlings. Be safe now.' Then she stood up, loudly greeted the rest of the few Norn that were still gathered in the Lodge, and took her leave. The door slammed behind her.

The Sylvari stood for a moment, both looking at something irrelevant as if it was incredibly interesting. Caithe was on the verge of saying something, snapping at Faolain, when the other suddenly turned and took her hand gently. Faolain had a small, unsure smile on her face.

'Let's go find Gixx,' Faolain said, softly. Caithe knew it was as close to an apology as she was going to get.

Gixx sat at a table at the far end of the lodge, accompanied by another asura instead of his usual human companion, who was nowhere in sight. He was deeply engaged in conversation with the other, angrily gesturing with both his little hands.

'..he just upped and left, to join the Vigil! I have never, in my entire career-' he was interrupted by a subtle cough from Faolain, who elegantly led Caithe to the tableside. Gixx immediately stood up and presented them to his friend.

'Ah, here they are! May I introduce you to my most fascinating friends yet, miss Caithe and miss Faolain of the Firstborn Sylvari. Ladies, this is the Gatekeeper who will lead us to Rata Sum, eventually.'

'Eventually?' Caithe asked, while the Gatekeeper let his eyes glide over the both of them, mumbling 'Fascinating, absolutely fascinating..' to himself.

'Ah, yes,' Gixx answered, a little uneasy. 'We'll have to cross two gates, and, well, you see,' he trailed off, not sure how to word his sentence.

_I still don't see anything, _Faolain thought in the back of Caithe's mind. It took a lot of willpower for Caithe not to giggle.

'Well, um, we were still in negotiations about the price of this transport. Gate traveling, unfortunately, isn't cheap. Hopefully that will change one day, but for now... well.' Gixx decided. He awkwardly rubbed his hands together, obviously uneasy with the situation. Caithe shrugged.

'We don't have any money. We did not need any until now.' She looked at her lover. 'Right?'

Gixx looked about ready to faint. Faolain gave Caithe a sideways glance, then smirked. With one, long, elegant movement she reached into her bodice and pulled up a pendant by its chain, letting it dangle in the air and making the delicate gold reflect the light. She held it up in front of the Gatekeeper's face, who looked at it greedily.

'Will this do?' Faolain asked, sweetly, her voice nothing but roses and seduction, but her eyes were utterly cold. Caithe frowned at her.

_I thought you got rid of that._

_I am getting rid of it now, _Faolain thought back, with another of her arrogant smirks. The Gatekeeper grabbed the pendant and jerked it out of the Sylvari's fingers.

'This'll do fine, just fine, miss,' he said, then turned to lead the way towards the gate. They exited the lodge, climbing the boulevard to the side, until they reached a stone arch, no a full circle made of stone. In it, a purple membrane seemed to float, trembling with wind that wasn't from Hoelbrak.

'This will lead you to Lion's Arch, ' the Gatekeeper said. 'From there on you know the way, don't you, Magister?' Gixx nodded, and beckoned the Sylvari closer.

'Yes, we will go to Lion's Arch first. Ladies, I want you to stay close to me. Lion's Arch is a big city, and I don't want to lose either of you.'

'Will we see it?' Caithe asked, excitedly. Gixx stood dumbfounded.

'Well, um, no, well, yes a little, but we won't _stay _there or anything-'

'Gate is turned on!' The Gatekeeper shouted, and the Gate made a low humming sound, audible even over the sounds of the snowstorm.

'We just walk through, it's quite easy, ladies!' Gixx yelled as he approached the Gate. Faolain followed behind him, but Caithe looked back. She hoped the people she had met here, the friends she had made, would be safe. That they would meet again. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Faolain's breath was hot against her cold cheek.

'They will be fine. You don't fell a Norn that easily, they are big tough thorns. Come on.' Caithe looked at her lover, who looked back at her, reassuringly, familiar and trusted once again, like she should be. It made Caithe's lips curl into a small smile as well. She nodded and took Faolain's hand.

They followed Gixx through the gate, stepping through the membrane, which felt like a cold dry shower. But the other side of the arch was warm, and the air was salty. The busy hustle of various people, and the warm sunshine welcomed them in the Capital of the World.


	11. What Comes Around

A/N: Woops, I had this ready for upload for a few days already, but totally forgot to upload it. My apologies for the delay, thanks for your ongoing support, and hope you enjoy!

* * *

Lion's Arch was unlike anything Caithe had ever even been able to imagine. The city was built out of beached ships, in various states of destruction and rotation, as if they had simply been stacked on top of each other by a blind giant. Underneath and through it, small buildings were built, and unstable looking wooden constructions connected the houses. The group stood on a small plaza where four gates were mounted on small pedestals, with stairs leading towards them. Over the bridge, on another plaza, a tall statue of a lion stood.

She unbuttoned her cape and took it off her shoulders, holding it over one arm. The temperature had risen from far below zero to near tropical. Faolain took off her hood, but after a moment's hesitation, and a sideways glance at Caithe, let the cape stay where it was. The plaza was busy with travellers and merchants, coming and going from the gates continuously. People pushed carts through the gates or emerged with big sacks. Large, catlike creatures grunted as they carried their heavy loads into the city. Gixx spoke with an asura near another gate. The Norn were a minority now, but of course, they were otherwise engaged at the moment.

Another of the catlike creatures came out of the city, a big backpack on its furry back. It looked grumpy, and had its claws out just in case anyone came too close to his wares. It looked around on the plaza, then set course for Hoelbrak. It came up the small stairs before the gate, and Caithe quickly stepped away to let him through, brushing slightly against its arm in the process.

'Hey! Watch where you're going, runt!' The creature growled, slashing angrily at her. Caithe barely dodged the blow, then vanished, reappearing on the other side of him, dagger in hand.

'My apologies,' she said simply, a grin on her face. The creature was confused for a moment, then turned towards her, growling low in its throat. It pointed a sharp claw at her.

'Don't play games with me, kid. I'll tear you apart.' His voice was dripping venom. Then it snorted and straightened, walking back towards the gate. A slender figure blocked his way once more.

'What made you think you could threaten my Caithe and get away with it?' Purple sparks shot between Faolain's fingers, a confident smirk on her face. The creature laughed, a grunting laugh from deep in his chest. It made the air tremble around them with the sheer volume. Then the creature undid the clasps of his backpack with a single gesture, making the pack fall to the ground. He shook his fur in anticipation, a grin on his face.

'A fight it is, then,' it bared its large canines at Faolain, keeping an eye on Caithe as well. Caithe charged first, avoiding the first flying fist, agile as always. She ducked and ran forward, trying to stab the beast where it would hurt, aiming for its unprotected abdomen. It brought down another claw and slammed her down in a single blow. She was knocked to the ground, sharp claws digging into her back. Caithe gasped, her vision swimming as the air was knocked out of her and her chin hit the stone ground hard. Above her she heard Faolain fight and scream, and then a body came crashing down on her own. Caithe whined with the pain, and she heard Faolain groan. The creature chuckled.

'Well, I'm not much of a vegetarian, but you'll make a decent lunch anyway...'

'What's going on here?' Three men in uniforms stepped forward, parting the small crowd that had gathered to watch the fight take place. 'Another drunken brawl? Get outta here, troublemakers.'

The catlike beast snarled and unhanded the Sylvari, grunting, 'They started it.'

'And I ended it. Get lost, Charr. And you ...two,' the man pointed his slender sword each time he addressed one of them, but hesitated for a moment when he took in the sight of the Sylvari. 'You two get lost as well. No fighting at the gates.' Caithe got up, coughing, pushing Faolain off of her, who stood up unsteadily as well. They nodded, heads down in shame, trying to shuffle away as far from their foe as possible. The guards turned their attention to the crowd now.

'Back to your businesses! Scram!' The people started splitting up and returning to their work, chatting excitedly about the fight, exchanging bet money and laughing about their wins. The creature stuck out a claw and pulled Faolain back by her collar. She yelped in surprise and fear.

'Next time, you're going down,' the beast whispered, 'and unless you want another Charr to do it for me, I'd cut back on that attitude if I were you...' his words lingered, followed by a low, hollow chuckle. Faolain snarled at him, eyes blazing with fury, but then yanked herself free and ran back to Caithe, who dusted off her fallen mantle. She did not look back until the beast had picked up his pack and gone through the portal.

Little feet scurried towards them, and Gixx started talking and gesturing frantically before he had even reached them.

'Not for five minutes in Lion's Arch, and you've already gotten into a fight! With a Charr, no less!'

'Ah, so they are called Charr..' Caithe noted, rubbing the back of her sore neck.

'Couldn't you have helped us?' Faolain asked Gixx sourly. Gixx laughed nervously at this ridiculous notion.

'Taking on a Charr? Without equipment? Absolutely not, my lady. Now, come on, we've overstayed our welcome as it is.' He gestured for them to follow, but kept a close eye this time if they were indeed behind him. They crossed the plaza and climbed the stairs to another gate. They felt the magic membrane pulsing as they came closer.

'I'm sorry, Gixx,' Caithe sighed. Gixx turned around, raising an eyebrow at her.

'What for?'

'For losing the fight,' Caithe shrugged. Gixx threw his hands in the air in frustration, but did not respond. He stepped through the gate and vanished. Faolain grabbed Caithe's hand and pulled them both through the portal.

.

Frantic. Every minute since her job, her life, had been taken from her, had been nothing less than frantic. Frantic emotions, at first, paired with banging on a heavy steel door, that did not open. Frantic begging for forgiveness. Words only answered with a muffled screaming coming from the room she was locked out of.

Now the young asura assistant paced in her room, going through her papers again and again. She could not sit down. She could not decide whether she was more sad about losing her job, or losing -dare she think it?- a friend. Losing her responsibility. Her assignment. Her _life's work_.

Kudu was downstairs, in the lab, doing unspeakable things to the Sylvari, mind even more frantic and less stable than hers. She wanted to do something. Needed to do something. Finally she threw down the papers and sat down, hiding her face in her hands and crying, letting the tears stream down. She knew that her reputation would be ruined forever. She would never be anyone's assistant again. It was all over. And yet, she had already, in some strange fashion, accepted that. As if she'd known all along, as if she'd been prepared for it every time she went down to Malomedies, late at night.

But letting Kudu unleash his crazy fascinations on him, without boundaries, without her healing practices... Her former master had had a look bordering on insane when he'd kicked her out. He must have known about Gixx returning. Suddenly she looked up, her eyes shot open at the realization. Gixx. If anyone could stop Kudu from dissecting her subject alive right then and there, it would be him. He would talk to the Arcane Council. He would stop Kudu. He would restore her status as honourable asura.

He would save Malomedies.

Her eyes widened as her mind began racing, quickly conjuring up multiple plans. She stood up, picked up a few papers, dropped them again, ran around in a circle, holding her head. She stopped and forced herself to breathe. _Calm. Okay. I can do this. _

She then took off, throwing open the door to the hallway, not even bothering to lock it behind her. She quickly descended the flights of stairs, one, two, three, and reached the central floor of her pyramid. Asura were talking excitedly left and right, but she paid them no heed. She needed to get to the gate, wait for Gixx, tell him what had to be done. She ran, dodging the expensive equipment scattered everywhere, jumped over a table, her breathing laboured now. She saw the bridges connecting the three floating pyramids, their blue magic glittering in the evening sun.

And there, in the middle of the suspended plaza, a small figure stood. She could not hear his voice but she recognized him, as if from a picture. She had never spoken to this asura, but every assistant from her generation knew his name. She knew it was him even though his back was turned to her. Then her breath stopped, and her head felt faint. She pulled her ears down in pure panic, and chewed the tips. Next to Gixx, looking at him with interested and friendly expressions, two tall women stood. Their bodies leafy, their faces humanoid. Gixx said something else she could not hear, and then the Sylvari _laughed_, elegantly, bringing up their hands to cover their mouths. She picked up the sound, albeit very feint. It was light, and ringing, like a bell. Her feet seemed suddenly to be made of stone, but her hands shook. She stood pinned, staring with her mouth ajar and her large eyes comically wide. She could not move a muscle, even though that was all she wanted right now.

Another asura, an older assistant, moved towards her, and put a hand on their shoulder.

'Fascinating, aren't they? If I didn't have work, I'd go closer and examine them. But my master -' The words shook the assistant from her binding spell and she took off, not even bothering to listen to what the other asura had to say.

_Malomedies!_ She thought frantically, and quickly crossed the bridge, stumbling and falling, landing on her belly in front of the three.

'Master Gixx! Please listen to me!'

.

Gixx stopped mid-sentence as the young asura dropped in front of his feet. He slowly turned his head towards her, his eyebrow raised, his mouth twisting down into a displeased sneer. He eyed her once, then sniffed disdainfully.

'From the Inquest, are you?' he asked her. She nodded, trying to get up on her shaky hands. Caithe kneeled down and helped her up on her feet, which made her red eyes widen even more. The assistant looked from Caithe to Gixx and back, for a moment unsure of what to do. Then she turned towards Gixx, grabbing the seam of his coat, and the tugged it desperately.

'Please, Master Gixx, I need to speak with you,' she gasped, and glanced quickly at the two Sylvari, 'in private!' Gixx waved her away, pulling his coat from her grasp and purposefully dusting it off in front o f her, as if her touch had made a dirty mark on it.

'Can't you see I'm busy?' He snapped at her, 'First all my letters to the Inquest go unanswered, but now that I'm back, it's suddenly urgent?' She almost whined in frustration.

'You don't understand! I can't say it _here_, but please, just one moment, you need to know this!'

'Does your master know you're here? Why aren't you at work?' He looked down on her, and she blushed in shame.

'I don't have a master...anymore...'

'Then what are you doing here? Go away. I have no need for redundant assistants.'

'Please, Master Gixx, you-' she begged.

'That would be "Magister", thank you very much. Get out of my sight, student.' Gixx interrupted her, shoved her back on the bridge, and turned his back to her. Then, as if he had discarded his annoyance along with the other asura, he turned his attention to the Sylvari again.

'Ladies! My apologies for this disturbance. Let me show you around.' He lead the two around the plaza, then descended into the northern pyramid.

.

The assistant fell to her knees, trembling all over her body. She watched Gixx go, followed by these two entrancing Sylvari women. She had failed. He did not even listen. She gritted her teeth, trying to force back her tears.

She stood up slowly. If Gixx wouldn't help her, she was on her own. She might as well make the most out of it for herself. She descended into the pyramids, into the Inquest lab area. She knew the route so well. She arrived at the door that led to Malomedies' prison. Slowly she raised a hand, then resolutely banged it with a fist. For a moment, it was silent, but then she heard rummaging behind the thick door, and it opened the slightest bit. Kudu peered through the narrow crack, and sighed when he recognized his former assistant, almost closing the door on her again. She quickly slipped her foot between the door and the wall, stopping the door effectively from closing, and looked Kudu in the eye.

'Master. I came to inform you that Gixx has arrived in Rata Sum.' Kudu peered at her for a second, then opened the door a bit more.

'A shame. So little time left..' Kudu looked sour.

'Not necessarily,' the assistant said, trying to sound formal and convinced of herself. Kudu raised an eyebrow at her.

'And why would that be?' He peered at her, his mouth still in a twisted snarl. She stuck her nose in the air, arrogantly.

'Well, since you are no longer my master, that is none of your business. Good day, Kudu.' She turned to leave, but Kudu yanked her back into the lab with a tormented growl, painfully twisting her arm. As soon as she was inside, he closed the door and locked it. He hissed at her, madness in his eyes.

'Tell me.'

'G-gixx brought two more. They are here. In Rata Sum.' She squeaked, trying to struggle her arm free from his painful grip. Kudu's eyes widened.

'Truly? Why, that is most fascinating...' His mouth curled into a grin, flashing pointy teeth. His eyes narrowed when he looked back at the assistant. 'Fine. You are hired. You will do as I say and not have any opinions whatsoever. Understand?' The assistant could only nod.

'What did you do to the specimen in my absence?' Kudu suddenly asked. He had a strange expression on his face, one of annoyance mixed with fascination.

'I taught him math,' the assistant admitted. Kudu scoffed.

'Well, that was a waste of time. He's not doing anything of the sorts anymore.' Kudu paused for a moment. 'He's not doing anything _at all_ anymore, I'm afraid.' He chuckled low in his throat.

The assistant's eyes only now darted towards the table. The sight was indescribable. There were tools spread out over the entire workspace, and the floor was scattered with vegetable remains. There were stains from a yellowish, translucent liquid, which dripped from a corner of the table, seeping out from under the body. Or what was left of it.

She saw the Sylvari breathing, the bared chest heaving, partially pierced and opened. His limbs were strangely dislodged and bent in awkward directions. Everywhere patches were opened or needles stuck out. The white mask was placed firmly over the Sylvari's face, but even from under there the liquid oozed and stained the rims of the mask.

She gasped, clasping her hands in front of her face. For a moment, she could only hear her master's amused chuckle. In shock, her emotions took over her mind.

She stepped up to Kudu, raised her hand, noted in the back of her mind the look he was giving her, arrogant and smug, with a hint of surprise at her actions. She gritted her teeth, forcing down her tears, and with all her might struck Kudu across the face.

.

The Sylvari walked around, following Gixx, staring with wide eyes at the place they'd arrived at. Everything here was made of metal, held afloat by magic. All structures were meticulously mathematical, as if the asura could fold up the city and fit it into a tiny box. Every shape had an equal structure of different size somewhere in the building. Blue light illuminated the rooms, coming out from under ledges and corners. Everything was clean, felt sterile, almost. Bridges and stairs were made of the blue light, which was somehow solid enough to stand on. It took a while for the Sylvari to get used to them.

They descended deeper and deeper, bowing politely to the asura Gixx introduced them to. Caithe suspected him vaguely of simply wanting to show them off to his colleagues, instead of sincerely being interested in showing them around. On the other hand, she did not really mind. This place was absolutely amazing.

They crossed a corner and came into a wide hallway. To the left, other smaller hallways lead away from this one, which seemed to be a main highway of some sorts. At the end of the hallway, the blue light was suddenly replaced by red, and it was remained red up until the wall and into the adjacent hallways. Gixx sighed.

'Ah, my ladies, I will not be showing you around here, since it's not quite as interesting as the rest, but here the Inquest have their laboratories.'

'The Inquest?' Caithe asked, while peering under a ledge to try and find the source of the beautiful blue light. She felt slightly nauseous, but played it off as a side effect of the sudden temperature changes. Or maybe from the gates, who knew what kind of effect they had on the body. Faolain walked up to the lightborder, just not stepping into the red light. She peered into the hallway.

'A seperate faction of asura. They have slightly different.. methods than usual. But excellent results, I must say, excellent results...' Gixx trailed off, for a moment looking very concerned. Then he restored his polite smile and turned back. 'You ladies coming along?' Caithe moved away from her ledge and turned to follow him, but stopped when she saw Faolain staring into the hallway, her nails digging into her chest as she clutched her dress.

'Caithe,' Faolain said, still staring at a point far away. 'I don't feel well.' Caithe walked up to her and took her hand.

'I know,' she whispered, stroking her hand softly. Faolain's gaze broke loose from the wall, and she looked at Caithe. She seemed pale.

'Something is wrong, I suddenly felt...' she trailed off, Caithe gently leading her away.

'I know, Faolain, I also feel bad. Maybe the gates-'

'It's not the gates,' Faolain answered resolutely, but Gixx interfered, having only half listened.

'Ah, yes! Gate nausea! I remember my first time, hah!' He grinned as he strolled casually back into the main plaza. 'The side effects are getting less each day, though, our best scientists are working on it. Though, if you're not used to it... Let's get some fresh air!'

'What did I tell you?' Caithe grinned smugly at Faolain, who returned her gaze, partly annoyed, partly still concerned.

'You are probably right, then,' Faolain succumbed, leaning closer to Caithe as they walked back, ascending stairs and into the cool evening breeze at the open plaza.

.

After proper goodbyes and exchanging thanks, Caithe and Faolain found themselves in a forest once more. It was green and the trees were tall and the ground was familiar. They both sensed it, saw the familiar trails of animals they knew, and plants they had seen grow before. A small creek streamed close by, and Caithe darted towards it happily to drink. Even the water tasted familiar. They both picked up pace, starting into a light jog into the woods and then started running, dancing and laughing as they crossed terrain that was increasingly more familiar.

Caithe, after they were both out of breath from running, lifted a thick blanket of willow-like branches to reveal a small clearing in the forest. A charred tree marked a stark line across it, but mosses and grasses had begun to grow on the burned bark, and it looked more like a shallow hill than what it once had been.

Not far from where she stood, she saw the upstanding roots of another fallen trunk, and recognized the hiding place it provided.

'Back where we began,' a velvety voice sounded behind her. Caithe ran towards her lover and let Faolain hold her. She sighed, in happiness. It was as if the memories from that fateful night came streaming back, taking with them all the feelings she had then noticed for the first time.

'What if you had never found me?' She asked softly, lovingly trailing nonsense patterns on Faolain's arm with a fingertip. Faolain chuckled, and Caithe felt the vibrations in her chest.

'I didn't need to. I knew where you were all along,' she whispered. Caithe looked up in surprise.

'How?'

'I followed you.' A simple answer. Caithe wasn't satisfied.

'Then, why?'

'You fascinate me.' Faolain said, her voice warm. Caithe looked up and saw in her eyes the same obsessive curiosity as her own, which had connected them many nights ago. She smiled.

A small branch snapped under the weight of a footstep, and they heard a voice calling to them, the sound of a bow being tensed, ready to shoot.

'Who are you? What is your business here?' A voice came from behind a wide tree. Caithe saw the arrowhead pointed at her. She stood still, making sure not to make any unexpected movements. Faolain slowly let go, and stepped forward.

_Faolain, what are you doing?_

_I think I know that voice._

_Faolain?_ a third voice sounded in their heads. The arrowhead was lowered slightly, and a slender figure stepped out from under the protection of the tree. Faolain ran towards her.

'Aife! I knew it was you!' Faolain laughed, and the archer broke into a smile.

'Faolain! Caithe! It is really you!'


	12. Light in the Tunnel

The long walk back towards the Grove was filled with excited chatter and laughter, and great stories to be told about faraway places. Time seemed to glide by and before they knew, night had fallen and almost passed. All three were tired, but still happily talking when Aife leaded them into the Grove.

It had unrecognizably changed. The clearing around the Pale Tree had been expanded to at least three times its former size, and branches had been built into balconies, slender bridges connecting them with the ground. The whole area was cultivated and kept neatly, with distinct paths and small fences made from ivy to keep anyone from falling. The Grove had grown into a huge complex of rooms and chambers and hiding places. Aife walked towards a big pod, and placed her hand on it. Muscles contracted inside the plant and it opened up, revealing a hollow inside.

'Look! Everyone has their own spot now. We made you houses, as well.' She said, gleaming with pride. Caithe and Faolain walked around with their mouths ajar, while Aife sat down at the table, casually leaning her chin on her hands. The Grove was nothing like how they'd left it. After a while, Caithe walked back at the entrance of Aife's house, and looked at the Grove.

'Aife,' she started, her expression suddenly a little forlorn, 'maybe it's just that it everything is so big now, but,' she looked around once more, 'where is everyone?' Aife's smile fell from her face.

'All those that are still here, you will meet at dawn. We always gather at the Pale Tree in the morning,' she said, folding her hands and staring at them. Caithe managed a small smile despite Aife's obvious troubles.

'I am glad at least _that_ has remained the same,' she said, putting a hand on Aife's shoulder. Aife looked up and smiled back at her.

'I am also glad you have not changed,' she said, letting her gaze slide over both Caithe and Faolain. 'Or, well, you have changed, but I sense you are still the same.'

'It feels that way because you have changed as well,' Faolain stated. Aife shook her head.

'I do not feel like I have changed. Maybe I am more convinced of what I am now, more able to express my feelings and fulfil my duties,' she said, nodding to herself.

'You are convinced that what you are doing is right.' Faolain said. Caithe wasn't sure whether it was a question or not, but she didn't like Faolain's tone, or the gaze she was giving her former friend. It reminded her of the cold stare Faolain had had before, in the Shiverpeaks, the ruthless kind of stare which would be followed by cruel words.

'So you are able to question your own actions,' Faolain continued. Aife stood up slowly, her voice confident as she replied, facing Faolain's cold stare head-on.

'Yes.'

'Then you are different from before,' Faolain said, staring into Aife's eyes. Caithe stood up cautiously, ready to jump in and separate the two. The tension had suddenly become almost tangible between them, the atmosphere vastly different from the relaxation before. Then just as sudden as she had begun it, Faolain looked away, placing her hand on her forehead and sighing, breaking the tension.

'I am very tired. I must bid you goodnight, Aife,' she said, nodding at her hostess. Then she smiled at Caithe. 'Goodnight, my love.'

Her dress rustled as she exited the house, and the pod closed smoothly behind her. Caithe let out the breath she was holding, and Aife let herself drop on her chair again. For a moment, it was silent.

'It must have been a very harsh trip,' Aife eventually concluded, breaking the silence. She thought for a moment. 'For Faolain to say something like that...' Caithe looked at her, but Aife did not continue.

'We have had some ... arguments, along the way,' Caithe then admitted quietly. 'In the end, we have the same goal. But I learned that her ways are different than mine.' Aife chuckled at that.

'That does not surprise me, Caithe. Faolain was always bold, and strong willed and stubborn. It was but a matter of time before she wanted to do things her own way. It is what makes being her friend so interesting.' Aife smiled to herself.

'Did you spend a lot of time with her?' Caithe asked. She realized she had never asked about Faolain's daily activities before their journey. Caithe had always been by herself, exploring, or on rare occasions she had been with Trahearne, who had been nothing more than a kinsmen to her then. Time had connected all of them, brought them closer, no matter how far she had been travelling. Something had kept their bonds, levelled their experiences. She knew their names, their faces, without ever having asked them, and shared memories of events she had never experienced.

'Yes, I did. When I was not with Riannoc, I was with her.' Aife smirked. 'Basically she was always up to mischief, pushing the boundaries of what she knew, of anything that seemed possible. She's not one to let go before she gets what she wants, is she?'

'I never noticed her before that night in the forest.' Caithe sighed.

'She is silent, like you.' Aife replied. 'But you adapt, you find your way like a stream downhill, while Faolain is a rock, that would clear out anything in its path on the way down.' Caite looked up, her eyes slightly widened.

'What do you-' Aife interrupted her as she stood up, shaking her head slowly. Her face vaguely resembled that of the Pale Tree as she bore a motherly, slightly patronizing smile.

'It is late. Let me show you to your house, and let you get some rest.'

.

The sun rose early over the Grove, and Caithe found Faolain bathing in the stream, her back towards her, just outside the clearing of the Tree. She approached carefully, scolding herself for being weary, but unable to cast off the feeling. Quietly calling out to her lover she walked up to the edge of the water, where Faolain's dress hung over a few low branches. Caithe felt the fabric with her fingertips. It was starting to get worn, and needed to be mended at the seam. The fabric was not quite as smooth anymore as it had been before.

Caithe felt Faolain's piercing gaze rest on her, as she stood in the water. Her dark body contrasted sharply with the glittering, crystal clear water, and the sandy soil under it. She carefully cleaned her body, rinsing it with water she picked up in a small chalice made out of leaves. It was tense for a moment, while either waited for the other to speak.

_Did you really need to act so hostile towards Aife? _Caithe found herself thinking. Faolain closed her eyes and sighed as she picked up more water and let it cleanse her face.

_So that is why you are here. _She did not look at Caithe, but instead focused on the water.

_You did not know?_

_I can barely hear your thoughts over the noise. _Faolain looked at Caithe now, her gaze open. _As if everyone talks at the same time._

Caithe kneeled by the water, and dipped in a few fingers to check the temperature. It was cold, much colder than the warm air would have had her believe. 'Then speak to me,' she said. She did not like cornering Faolain like this, but she was troubled. She wanted to resolve this. Faolain sighed again and she lowered herself completely into the thigh-deep water now, only to emerge a moment later. She shook the drops off her mane of branches, and smirked.

'It's nothing. You wouldn't know, but I've always thought Aife too docile, too blindly loyal to duties. Yet now that she started thinking for herself, -we all did, I might add- she still pretends to be the same.' Faolain smiled as she shook her head, and rinsed her shoulders. 'We used to quarrel about it a lot.'

'She still performs her duties, though,' Caithe mused, swirling the water with a finger. 'I don't understand.'

'Yes, she does. But let's just say she now knows whom to shoot, and whom to take back to the Grove.' Caithe heard the water splash and Faolain stepped out of the stream, greeting Caithe by giving her a warm smile and stroking her cheek, her hand cold from the water. She shook off the remaining drops from her leaves and rearranged the bell-shape around her legs. Caithe picked up the dress carefully, still a little annoyed at how everyone was treating her like she knew nothing.

'Would you like me to lace you up?' she asked. The sound had barely outrung the faraway chirping of birds, and still it sounded like it had been far too loud. Faolain shook her head. She gestured vaguely to where the dress had been hanging and Caithe put it back before joining at Faolain's side.

They walked silently towards the centre of the Grove, where the roots of the Pale Tree were firmly planted into the ground. Everywhere around them constructions were still in progress, the Grove would soon expand even further. Caithe felt her hand touch Faolain's, and her fingers being interlaced. They glanced at each other before looking up in surprise. Kahedins came running towards them. Aife stood at the tree's roots, her arms crossed, a small smile on her face. Dagonet and Niamh were just arriving but their eyes sparkled as they recognized the two, and ran towards them as well.

'You are back!' 'Where have you been?' 'You must tell us everything!' They hugged and held each other's hands as they greeted, happy and relieved to see their siblings in good shape. Caithe looked around their small group.

'So.. this is it? Where is everyone?' Faolain had walked over to Aife and conversed softly with her. They seemed to be on good terms again. Kahedins shook his head sadly.

'They're all gone. You just missed Trahearne, he left only a few days ago.' He opened his mouth to continue, but hesitated. Caithe caught his sad gaze.

'What about the rest?' She asked him, urging him to speak on, but he merely shook his head. Suddenly a light illuminated the group as the Avatar of the Tree descended. She held out her arms to her children, who ran towards her. Caithe fell into her embrace, and Faolain found her cheek being caressed, savouring the simple gesture. The other Sylvari bowed deeply before stepping up to greet her.

'Trahearne has started his Wyld Hunt, my child,' the Pale Tree spoke. 'He will not be back for a long time. A heavy burden has been placed on his shoulders.' Caithe bit her lip. She knew of Trahearne's burden all too well. She knew of the impossibility of it, it seemed even more impossible than her own Wyld Hunt.

'The others are out there, researching their purpose. Except for my dear Riannoc.' The Pale Tree looked sad for a moment. 'May he one day be avenged.'

Silence took the clearing. The Sylvari stared at each other with wide eyes. Niamh dared to speak first.

'Mother, what do you mean?'

'Riannoc has returned to the Dream, my child.'

.

Gixx stretched out and turned around in his soft bed. It was great to be back in Rata Sum. No more cold, no more Norn, no more disrespect. No more running errands. Here, people ran errands for him. The sun shone generously through the windows, and he slowly got up and yawned, rubbing his eyes. It must have been past noon already. He climbed out of bed and got dressed, humming relaxedly.

While brushing his teeth, he noticed a small folded piece of paper on the floor. It looked to have been shoved under the door. Gixx had a mailbox outside for all work correspondence, so this was highly uncommon. He unfolded the piece of paper. It was a short note, written in a neat, swirly hand.

_Dear Gixx, _

_Would like to show you my project. Please come down as soon as possible. Lab 34, Inquest division. _

_See you soon,_

_Kudu_

Gixx raised his eyebrows at this in surprise. He was mostly concerned by the 'please' and 'see you soon'. If this project had infected Kudu's mind, then these would be the first signs. He was surely going mad.

Gixx studied the curvy handwriting more closely. It was definitely feminine. Then he realized Kudu dictated his letters so he wouldn't have to write them himself. Apparently his assistant had taken some artistic liberty to add in the polite phrasings. He folded the piece of paper. Try as he might, he was very, very eager to learn more about Kudu's mystery project. After fixing his hair, he set course for the Inquest labs.

The long halls seemed colder than the rest of the building, even though the red light should have given the illusion of warmth. Gixx didn't come here often, and when he did, it wasn't gladly. Kudu he could get along with, _sometimes_, but most of the Inquest were absolutely aggravating to be around. If it weren't for their excellent results, the Arcane Council would have ceased their funding many years ago. Sure, they had to calm down a Skritt colony once in a while, but the Inquest had a way of dealing with these situations.

He peered at the worn tags next to the doors. Lab 65, the one next to him said. He needed to go way deeper still. He descended stairs into even colder hallways. The doors had become thicker, the labs bigger, and the hallways narrower. Even the red light seemed dimmed, this far underground. He located the lab, at last, and tapped the door. He wasn't sure if he was nervous or excited, but his heart seemed to beat a little more rapidly than normal.

Big eyes appeared behind a crack in the door, and then the door opened completely. Gixx vaguely recognized the assistant from the day before, but ignored her as he stepped in.

'Who is it?' Kudu creaked from the workbench. Gixx coughed to announce his presence. The assistant folded her hands obediently as she introduced Gixx with a tiny voice.

'It's magister Gixx, master.' Gixx peered at her. She had large bruises over her arms and neck. When she walked away towards the cabinet, he saw a slight limp in her stride as well. He wondered briefly if he had simply not noticed these things yesterday, or if she had not had them. He was shaken from his thoughts however when Kudu turned around, a pleased smile on his face.

'Ah, Gixx. Are you here to hand over the other two? You'll have to admit, I am the expert here now. I know them from the inside out, literally speaking...' Kudu trailed off, chuckling and testing a syringe in the air. The table and its contents behind him were covered with a stained cloth, that hung as low as the floor. Gixx shrugged, tapping his foot impatiently.

'I'm just here because of your note. I have no idea what you are talking about.'

'Note?'

'That was shoved under my door this morning?'

'I didn't send a note.' Kudu creaked, his brow furrowing. The assistant looked panicked.

'Y-yes, you did!' she squeaked, trembling. 'Don't you remember, master Kudu? You wanted me to write it up and bring it directly to magister Gixx' room.'

Kudu shrugged, and tore the cloth off the table. Something flinched underneath it. 'Could be,' Kudu grinned, 'not that it matters. You're here now. Where are the other two? I need some fresh meat to test my other vials on.' In the corner, the assistant let out a relieved sigh.

Gixx first thought Kudu had indeed had a ravaged Jungle Wurm lying on the table. But then the figure moved, and he saw the unmistakable features of a Sylvari, though damaged, sometimes so badly that it looked more like something you would scrape out of a garden in autumn than anything. His eyes widened as he walked towards the table. It definitely resembled the two women Gixx had met, however with a broader chest and longer legs. The features of his face were masculine. For a moment, Gixx only stared at the mutilated figure.

'W-what did you do?'

'Oh, the usual. Checking chemical reactions, made a sketch of the muscle and nerve structure, didn't quite get to the gastrointestinal tract yet. I wanted to do a search of the circulatory system, but it only had this sap that supposedly just goes _everywhere_...' Kudu explained, but lowered his voice when Gixx started shaking his head and going 'no...no...no..' under his breath.

'Is he alive?' Gixx asked. He noticed his hands were shaking. Kudu just shrugged. 'Maybe. Not for long, I'd reckon.' The assistant made a sad little squeaking sound, and Kudu immediately turned and smacked her down. She fell to her knees, shielding her head with her tiny hands, pleading for him not to hurt her. Gixx looked back sourly between the commotion in the corner and the mess on the table.

'Kudu.' He started, his voice low and dangerous. 'Do you have any idea what you have done? These are not half-sentient life forms. This is a _Sylvari_. And this is not the only one. We don't even know how many there are.'

'It's a _plant_!' Kudu replied, exasperated. 'What are you _talking about?_ Sure, it babbles a bit, but-'

'Babbles?!' Gixx exclaimed. He grabbed Kudu by his collar, yanking him close. 'Kudu, listen to me. These creatures are more intelligent than your average Norn. They are taller than us. They might even outnumber us. Kudu, your reckless actions may cause _a war!'_ For the first time, Kudu's eyes widened.

'A war?'

'A war we might even _lose._ It needs to be avoided. At all costs.' Gixx decided, letting go of Kudu, who rubbed his neck and swallowed thickly. They both stared at the Sylvari. It lay completely still on the table.

'Untie him. And make sure he gets patched up. We need him in acceptable condition before we return him.'

'Return him?! But Gixx, that-'

'We _return him!_' Gixx snarled at Kudu. 'I've had enough of your foolishness. You will return him. You will make an official apology to the Sylvari on behalf of the Inquest. And you can be sure that the Arcane Council will hear about this.' He sniffed and turned to leave, but as he reached for the door, he looked back, a thoughtful expression on his face. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more concerned. 'And while you are there...you check how many there really are of them.'

Kudu gritted his teeth. 'The Council? Do we need to involve them?' Gixx simply smacked the door closed behind him as he exited. 'I guess so..' Kudu muttered, turning back to his precious subject. In the corner of his eye he noticed a quivering figure. When he looked up at his assistant, the realization dawned on him, and his eyes burned with rage.

'You _knew_ about this, didn't you, you little brat?' He advanced on her, snarling. His eyes were narrower than they had ever been. The assistant wailed in fear and shook her head, tears already flowing down her cheeks.

'I didn't, Master, please Master, I did not know!' She pleaded in vain.

'You conjured up that note, didn't you? Didn't you?!' Kudu was positively growling now, closing in on her and trapping her in the corner. She trembled over her whole body now, pulling her ears down in a frustrated gesture.

'Yes, I did!' She suddenly yelled at him, voice breaking. 'I did it to stop you from further hurting him! You could not go on with this!'

For a moment, there was complete silence, only broken by the sound of the assistant's heavy breathing. Kudu's face was completely still. Then, his lips curled upwards into a cruel smile.

'I told you not to have an opinion, didn't I?' The assistant nodded weakly, averting her gaze.

'I told you to be unconditionally obedient, didn't I?' His fingers went back to the table and picked up the object he'd left there.

'I am fired again.' The assistant sighed. She slowly looked up as no answer came, then her eyes widened in fear. Kudu stood before her, blocking all her escape routes. In his hand was the loaded syringe, filled with a purple liquid. He slowly shook his head, that insane smile still on his face.

'Oh, no...' he whispered, 'we are far from finished.'

The high-pitched scream was so loud it echoed off the walls in the hallway, even penetrating the thick door, but there was no one to hear it.

.

The atmosphere in the Grove was grim. While glad to be together again, with the return of Caithe and Faolain the absence of the others seemed even more painful. Caithe kept to herself, busying herself with small chores around the Grove. She needed to think. This new Grove was something she'd have to get used to. She had known it would change, and grow, but now that it was actually happening, she wasn't sure if she had been prepared for this.

It was a small solace to be able to do familiar tasks and so help the Grove grow. It made her feel as if she had some influence in this massive process, as if her presence mattered to her surroundings. She collected berries in a small basket, not really bothering to think much about which would go together, too deep in thought. She had wandered off to a less cultivated back alley of the Grove, where the plants still grew thickly and close together, where weeds would flourish and flowers had to fight for their sunlight. In the distance, she could see the plains she had once so longed to explore. When she saw them now, she was filled with many memories, and subconsciously looked around for the one she had made these memories with. Faolain was not around. Even though it had been just a silly thought, it was very unlike Faolain not to appear out of nowhere when Caithe looked for her, and Caithe felt a little disappointed.

An image flashed by before her eyes, of high white walls and a room with wooden window shutters, and an angry Faolain on the bed. Despite herself, Caithe smiled. She understood her lover a bit better again today. She also did not like not knowing where Faolain was. The thicket made place for a row of large pods, hanging from a branch. The thick branch was bent through the weight of its heavy fruits. There were five, maybe six of these giant pods that she could see, blocking the way. Caithe ran her hand up one. It was at least as tall as she was, and felt warm, pulsing with life.

When she looked more carefully, she suddenly realized what it was. It was not just any pod. It was a Sylvari pod. And if anything, it was about to burst.


	13. In Our Midst

A/N: Apologies for the delay! I got a job, so now I have less time. I'm working on the next chapter already though, so it should not take as long as this one.

In reaction to your review ShyWolf, yes I am messing with the timeline a little, because this story is more about the relationship between Caithe and Faolain, than a brief history of the Sylvari. You are totally right though! There should be about six years inbetween, but I guess, you can imagine what those six years looked like, it would have been exploring with adventures similar to the past ones. Hope that answers it and thank you for your review! :D

* * *

Aife met Dagonet at the roots of the tree, marking something on a flattened rock with a chisel.

'You're sure? That many?' Dagonet nodded.

'The Mother's branches have extended all the way over the Grove. There are many pods in many stages of growth. I think, about a dozen ripe ones. A lot more that are half grown though, and the small ones are uncountable,' he said, a little out of breath. Aife's eyes widened.

'That's amazing.. We will need more housing to accommodate all those new ones, though.' She looked up from her work to look at Dagonet's face. 'Strange, how quickly they grow now.'

'We've just been the few of us for so long, ' Dagonet sighed. Aife felt fear and curiosity battling for dominance in her friend's heart. Tenderly, she put a hand on his shoulder.

'You will have no trouble understanding, in the end. After all, you are a scholar,' she said. Dagonet smiled at her. Suddenly both of them looked up in perfect sync, Aife stretching out to see further, and Dagonet turning to look over his shoulder. Further away, Faolain stared at the same point in the distance. Caithe joined at her side.

'It begins,' Faolain stated. Caithe grabbed her hand, and all Firstborn retreated into the thicker forests west of the Grove, where a single pod had begun to pulse and crack. They stood silently, in a circle around it. Kahedins' eyes were wide with wonder as a single crack began running down the pod in front of him, and then another, and then another. The giant seed groaned under its own weight and let heavy shells of protective tissue fall down. The first layer peeled off, and then, another one, lighter in colour. The discarded shells lay scattered around the core, like the rays of the sun. Finally, the soft inner petals opened, thousands of thin, paper-like wings unfolding themselves from each other and spreading out into a full circle. In the middle, a slender figure sat crouched, his hands protectively in front of his face, his knees pulled up to his chest. When the first light hit him, he looked up slowly and stretched his still damp limbs. Aife reached out a hand.

'Welcome, brother.'

Caithe could only stare. This was the most magical thing she had ever seen. From out of nowhere, another Sylvari had appeared, with an unknown face and an unknown name, and a new future. She swallowed thickly, and looked around her. There were so many pods. There would be so many Sylvari. Aife helped up the newborn and supported him as he shakily stepped out onto the forest ground.

'What is your name?' she asked. The man looked at her, then at the others, before confusedly replying, 'Cadeyrn.'

'Did you dream?' Dagonet asked. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. Caithe strangely felt like reaching out and touching the new one, just to see if this was all real. She recalled stepping out of her own pod. It had been night then. Cadeyrn nodded at Dagonet.

'Yes,' he said, his voice deeper than Caithe would have expected. 'I did dream.' His skin was a deep brown, so vibrant it resembled red.

'I am the first, am I not?' he then continued, looking around him. The other pods groaned and pulsed, but remained intact for now. 'Am I not?' he repeated, something resembling urgency in his voice. Dagonet chuckled. Caithe shook her head slowly.

'Well, of the new ones, yes.' For a moment, their eyes met, slight tension building. 'But we were here first,' she said, resolutely. Cadeyrn gritted his teeth, and his eyes narrowed.

'I am special. The Pale Tree wanted me to awaken first.' He directed his anger at Caithe, raising his voice. 'She must have known I was destined for great things.'

'We shall see,' Faolain interfered, clearly audible, though much lower in volume. 'Tell us about your dream.' Niamh took this opportunity to grab Cadeyrn's hand and lead him towards the Grove, the others following behind them.

'Good idea. Tell us about your dream.'

.

_Beep, beep_. A soft, mechanical beeping sound buzzed rythmically through the room. The pitterpatter of small feet scurrying along tiled floors, and moving of carts with creaking wheels not quite loud enough to drown it out. Hushed voices, hurried, and tense, but kept forcibly low.

Malomedies breathed slowly. The air was heavy in his lungs, and felt wet and soggy. It was hard to breathe. He dared not concentrate on his body, his consciousness just slipping in and out of sleep. There was no pain anymore, just numb misery. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head sideways. For a moment, the light stung, and it was bright and white and unlike anything he had seen in a long time. When he opened his eyes, he noted it was a window. It was big, as wide as the table he lay on, and it was sunny outside. He saw the plants and the grass and the blue, blue sky. Surprised, he turned the other way and gasped, then cringed in pain. There was no terrifying red light on the walls, no cabinet in the corner, but it was a large, spacious room, with holographic dashboards of blue light and a lot of asura hurrying about. He wasn't sure to be happy or afraid.

As he looked slowly at his body, he saw he wasn't tied up, but bandaged. It had been done quickly, but neatly. He couldn't move. A cold, damp cloth was placed on his forehead, and Malomedies sighed in relief. It felt nice.

'There, there, sir. Not to worry, since you are awake, you will regain control of your movements soon.' A young asura with goggles looked down on him. 'I will make sure we keep the pain under control for a little longer. We will do some exercises and then get your escort ready.'

'Escort?' Malomedies stammered, his voice strained and broken. The asura nodded at him.

'Yes, we're bringing you back,' he said, matter-of-factly. Malomedies heart jumped a mile up, and he wanted to ask why, how, why his situation had changed so suddenly, but another asura tapped the first on the shoulder and called him away. A moment later they carried a stretcher past him. On the stretcher was a figure, covered partially by a white cloth. Her face was blueish pale, red eyes dull and dry-looking, staring with half-closed lids. She lay absolutely still. Malomedies peered at the three passing by, his mind slow by the anaesthetics and distracted by the excitement of his upcoming journey home. Once he realized he knew that sickly pale face, they had already turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

'You ready?' Kudu stood, fuming, his arms crossed, leaning against a wall a few metres away from Malomedies. If he had ever looked displeased, now he was angrier than ever. Veins were throbbing on his forehead, and he spasmodically dug his nails into his arms. He sighed deeply and took a step forward. 'Can you walk?' He sneered. Malomedies shrugged. Through his confusion, he still understood he need not talk to this asura anymore.

'Well, we're not going to carry you. Come on!' More asura assembled and they lifted him off the table, holding his arms with the first few steps, and then letting go. Malomedies felt the warmth of joy spread in his chest, he could walk again.

.

Kahedins had taken his usual spot by the pond again. He sat there, silently, not even bothering to feign activity anymore. He stared at the water, his face downturned into a sad frown. A small leaf fell from a nearby tree and landed on his leg, and he just stared at it, not even bothering to brush it off. After Cadeyrn, two more secondborn had emerged from their pods. A man named Canach and a woman, Sariel. It would not be long before the others would open. Dagonet had estimated around 20 new Sylvari would emerge in the coming days, and the next wave would be even larger.

Kahedins sighed. The others were all excited, and so was he, but his mood was being weighed down by the painful aching in his chest, that he carried every minute of every day. The aching feeling of loss, of missing the one closest to you. He bit his lip not to cry. He knew crying would not help.

Next to him, thin air suddenly contracted and Caithe appeared, startling Kahedins. He yelped and jumped away, and Caithe looked at him confusedly.

'What is wrong?'

'You scared me. Don't just turn up out of nowhere,' Kahedins said, exasperated. Caithe chuckled.

'No, you are troubled. What is bothering you?' she asked, as she sat down next to Kahedins. He relaxed slowly, letting out a long sigh and shaking his head. Caithe frowned.

'Where did Riannoc go?' she tried.

'He left a few days after you did, going north. We do not know how far he got.' Kahedins said, curtly. He tried to make clear he really wasn't in the mood to talk, without bluntly sending her away. If it weren't for Caithe's inevitable questions, he'd secretly enjoy the company.

'And Trahearne?'

'South. He didn't tell me where, exactly.'

'Why not?' Caithe was slightly aggravated by all the unanswered questions that burned inside her, but Kahedins was proving to be of little help.

'Don't ask me.'

'Did he tell anyone?'

'Dagonet, perhaps. Otherwise Mother, I assume.'

'Where is Malomedies?' Caithe went on, tirelessly. Kahedins gritted his teeth, then suddenly sobbed and curled up, pulling his knees to his chest. Caithe's eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, they just sat there, Kahedins crying softly into his hands, trembling, with Caithe watching him, unsure what to do. Then, she moved closer, softly putting an arm around him. She rubbed his back and leaned her cheek on his scalp, gently embracing him. He stopped trembling, and leaned into her, seeking comfort for the burden he'd carried on his own for so long.

'He left many days ago,' Kahedins whispered, voice breaking. 'I can not stop thinking something terrible happened.' Caithe soothed him.

'I can not live if Malomedies returns to the Dream, Caithe. I can not live if he dies.' Kahedins whispered desperately. Caithe sat up and lifted Kahedins' face in her hands, making him look at her. His eyes were red from crying.

'He is not dead. We would have known.' Caithe said, resolutely. Kahedins wasn't sure if he felt better by this or not. He just nodded and slumped back against Caithe. She rocked him back and forth gently, keeping him company until he calmed down.

'What is the world like?' Kahedins asked, a little while later. His voice was still soft, but he seemed to have regained his composure.

'It's very,' Caithe started, but hesitated as she sought for the right word. 'Big,' she decided eventually. Kahedins raised his brows.

'Just big?'

'And interesting,' Caithe added. 'And sometimes beautiful.' Kahedins eyes met hers, and she felt a little excitement just thinking back of her adventures. 'There are wide open fields, and hills and a very large city with high, white walls.'

'How high?' Kahedins asked. He had a small smile on his face now, relaxedly listening to Caithe's voice.

'As high as the Mother Tree. Maybe even higher. And there are mountains, covered in snow and ice - and even the lakes and rivers are frozen there. And it goes on beyond, we have not even seen half of it.' Caithe smiled as well now as she reminisced. 'And there are strange creatures, weird things I had never seen before.'

'It sounds interesting.'

'It was.'

'Was it dangerous?' Kahedins asked lazily, but Caithe's smile fell a bit.

'Sometimes. I don't back off of a good challenge,' she laughed, trying to hide not being as amused, but Kahedins picked up on it and sat upright. He looked at her as he questioned further.

'Did something happen?' His tone was slightly accusing. Caithe looked away.

'Not really, I mean, it's just a scar...' her voice lingered, and Kahedins narrowed his eyes.

'On you?' he asked, and Caithe shook her head, subconsciously rubbing her shoulder, mimicking the spot where Faolain had been hit by the devourer. The thicket near to them rustled and a pale skinned woman came walking through, gazing in wonder at the forest around her, and then at the water. She smiled at the two Firstborn, then kneeled by the water and let it run over her hands.

'Hello, Sariel,' Caithe greeted her. Kahedins threw Caithe another accusing glance.

'I dreamt of this place, I think,' Sariel said. 'The water is beautiful, but very cold.'

'What did you dream of?' Kahedins asked. She looked around before answering, 'It might have been another place.'

Caithe felt a hand on her shoulder. She caressed it and interlaced their fingers before realizing what she was doing. Suddenly she looked up behind her, where Faolain smiled at her. Faolain sat down next to her, still holding her hand.

'There you are. I was looking for you,' Faolain said.

'You surprised me,' Caithe said, a little breathy. Faolain chuckled, and caressed her cheek in greeting. Kahedins snorted amusedly, just loud enough for them to hear. He sneaked a glance at Faolain's shoulder while she adjusted her dresslike leaves around her legs. On her shoulder a long, thin, offwhite stripe was visible, running through the leaves, the skin around it crusted like treebark. Caithe threw him an angry warning glance, and he did not make any remark. Faolain either didn't notice, or pretended not to. Sariel had shyly come forward, but now sat down with them, a little more confident than before.

'Why did you look for me?' Caithe asked Faolain. Her lover shrugged.

'I wanted to know where you were.'

'I thought you always knew,' Caithe joked. Faolain smiled and stroked Caithe's hair softly, but did not answer. They exchanged a loving glance, and then Caithe noticed what Faolain meant. She could feel Faolain's emotions, but not exact. It was unclear, blurred.

'I know your face from my dream,' Sariel suddenly smiled. Faolain looked at her in surprise, not sure how to respond to that. She concluded that a polite smile would do. Sariel kept staring at her, in adoration and wonder. Caithe looked at the Secondborn. She was inquisitive, but could be a little reserved. It worried her that the emotions of the Secondborn were as clear to her as Faolain's.

'Will more of the new Sylvari dream about us, do you think?' Kahedins wondered aloud. Caithe shrugged, still deep in thought. Even Kahedins, who had been around longer than Sariel, did not seem clearer or more easily readable. Faolain squeezed her hand, and looked at her reassuringly. They would be fine.

'Perhaps. As long as I don't have to stay in the Grove all day, I don't mind,' Caithe laughed. Faolain reached out for Sariel and softly patted her hand.

'You must tell me about your dream, Sariel.' The Secondborn wanted to reply, but suddenly Niamh came crashing through the bush, storming over the low shrubberies and breaking twigs wherever she went. Her breathing was laboured, her eyes wide.

'Here you all are,' she gasped, 'come with me, we have to defend the Grove!'

.

Caithe sat crouched in the shadow of a large pine tree. She heard high voices approaching, a group of creatures, who were not very much doing their best to be inconspicuous. She heard the many breaking twigs and bushes shoved away, as if they were chopping a new path. Deep sounds of metal banging on metal and joints creaking were even noticeable as vibrations in the ground. Caithe narrowed her eyes and tried to see. They were still too far away.

She signaled the others. She had ran ahead, easily shrouded in shadow, disappearing in the environment. The other Sylvari had formed a defensive line near the Grove. All were hidden, but very much ready for the attack. The young Secondborn, inexperienced as they were, had been stationed near the Pale Tree, which had displeased Cadeyrn greatly.

Suddenly a metal arm shoved an entire tree aside and it fell over, groaning and taking a large chunk of earth in its fall. From behind it, a huge metal golem appeared, making way for a dozen small creatures, some of them dragging something on a piece of worn cloth, that they pulled over the forest ground. Caithe's eyes widened as she realized it were asura. She looked over her shoulder and held up her hand, making sure the others would remain hidden.

The caravan was led by a grumpy looking, short asura with pointy teeth. He waved for the others to follow him, some carried large guns, loaded with a strange fluid. Three of the asura were carriers, all three strapped to the makeshift sack they pulled like horses. Caithe stepped out, making herself visible to them. The caravan stopped immediately, and Caithe blocked their path. For a moment, it was silent. The Golem towered, intimidatingly large, over Caithe.

One of the carrier asura looked over his shoulder towards the sack. It groaned. Caithe narrowed her eyes. Gixx had been friendly to her, but that was just one of them. She had seen how he had been towards his own kinsmen. She had no guarantee they were friendly. Behind her, a presence came closer, she sensed it like the air was humming. Faolain was right behind her, still covered, but ready to strike, backing her up like always. She felt strengthened.

They needed to be diplomatic about this. Rational. Sort it out before unnecessary situations arose. The asura seemed weary. Especially the one in front had a strange, unreadable expression on his face. Something of grudge and annoyance and fascination and envy. Caithe felt shivers run down her spine just barely tolerating his gaze.

A twig broke behind her. Caithe's eyes widened. She had not given the signal yet. The sack moved again. She yerked her head back to see what happened, and then Kahedins walked past her, gaze fixed on the thing the asura had been carrying. He tried to make a sound, but failed- yet, the second time, his voice shattered the silence of their encounter.

'Malomedies?'

Something groaned. Kahedins ran forward, ignoring the asura completely. Caithe tried to stop him, shouting his name in warning, and ran after him. Then all Firstborn came out. Aife, Niamh at her side, initiated the attack. Within seconds the forest was filled with sounds of battle. Caithe staggered back, screaming for them to stop, but it was too late. The asura screeched and shot their weapons. Dagonet got hit immediately and howled in pain - Cadeyrn had followed them and charged into battle as well, until Caithe grabbed him and pulled him back. Kahedins sat in the middle of the chaos, shielding his long lost love with his body. He held his arms around him, Malomedies bruised and collapsed in his embrace. Tears streamed down their faces. No asura thought to attack them.

Caithe sensed familiar magic, and saw an asura go down, holding his head, screaming in agony. Faolain's eyes lit up with the purple light that sparked between her fingertips. Then a gun was aimed at Caithe and she barely avoided it, rolling out of the way.

One asura had just been standing amidst the brawl. The leader, the one with pointy teeth. His eyes were closed, he was gnawing on the insides of his cheeks. On his forehead a vein throbbed. Then, he gestured the golem, and made it stomp on the ground. The mighty blow silenced the battlefield, asura and Sylvari alike thrown off their feet.

'I believe I have something of yours,' he sneered. 'If you'd be so kind not to attack me, I'd like to return it.'

'We have a slight misunderstanding, I'm afraid,' Caithe gasped in response, getting back up on her feet. Faolain gave an already-downed asura one last nudge with her foot before sourly ceasing the battle. She held Cadeyrn by the collar of his shirt with one finger, to keep him from advancing on the troupe. He murmured an annoyed 'lemmego!' as he shrugged off her grip and sulkily stood next to her.

'My name is Kudu,' the asura continued, paying little attention to Caithe or his fallen comrades. 'And I am to give you an official apology on behalf of the Arcane Council. For another, eh, slight misunderstanding.'

'What have they done to you?' Kahedins' wail sliced the air as he realized the state Malomedies was in. Kudu rolled his eyes and nodded, in an awkward motion, meaning _yes-that-is-what-I-meant_.

Caithe regained her composure. 'Hand him over.' Kudu raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

'That's why I am here. Let's make short work of this.'

'This will not go unconsequenced.' Caithe warned him, her voice trembling with rage as she saw what was left of her friend and sibling.

'Speak to the Arcane Council if it's war you want.' Kudu called to her over his shoulder. Caithe growled and vanished, appearing in front of him again. She had her daggers at his throat. Kudu immediately stopped and gulped audibly.

'We will _not forget_.' Caithe growled at him, and he hastily shook his head. Then she retracted her weapons, and Kudu scurried off into the woods, his golem following him like a dog.

For a moment, it was silent, apart from the soft groaning of the defeated asura. When she had forced down her rage and turned to the rest, they were gathered around Malomedies, trying to find a way to get him back the Grove safely.

'What do we do with them?' Aife asked, pointing at the downed asura. Caithe sighed.

'We should get them back on their feet and make them able to go home-'

'We let them rot there and die.' Faolain interfered. Caithe rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to argue, but Faolain had her arms crossed and gestured at Malomedies with her head. Her eyes were narrow, but blazing, and Caithe wasn't sure which emotion she read from her. It confused her.

'Priorities, Caithe. Firstly, we have to get Malomedies home. l'd much rather be taking care of my _own kin _than of these rats_. _If you insist on acting out your charity I cannot stop you, but you will not do so at our expense.'

'She has a point,' Cadeyrn chirped, and Aife silenced him with an annoyed grunt. Niamh bit her lip, the warrior in her obviously conflicted. Faolain walked towards Caithe and looked her straight in the eyes.

'Better yet, we finish them right now,' she whispered, 'so that if that Kudu comes back he'll have a clear message waiting for him-'

'No, please!' a soft voice pleaded. Faolain turned around with narrowed eyes, magic sparking again.

'Show yourself,' she demanded, her voice threatening and menacing, advancing on the sound. A young asura with goggles appeared from his hiding place in a shrubbery nearby. He ran towards his nearest companion and helped him up, before looking up to speak again. He threw one glance at Faolain, who was ready to attack and immediately turned to Caithe, grabbing the tails of her leaves like a child asking attention from its mother.

'Miss, it was not our fault, we took care of him, we healed him, I'm just an engineer, I cannot fight, I build things, please, we came to give him back-' Caithe held up a hand to stop him, confusedly shaking her head.

'Slow down,' she said, 'you healed him?'

'We took care of him after master Gixx had placed him in our custody, miss,' the asura stammered. Caithe's eyes widened, and she looked shockedly at Faolain, who had the same expression.

'Gixx did this?' she asked the asura, exasperated. The other firstborn looked at each other in confusion, but decided to listen to the conversation. Niamh had closed her hand over Cadeyrn's mouth, who looked very disgruntled, to keep him silent. The asura desperately shook his head.

'No, no! Master Kudu and his team were responsible for what happened, master Gixx made his return happen!' He looked at his fallen comrades again with fear in his eyes. 'Please don't hurt me!'

Faolain had joined at Caithe's side. They exchanged glances for a moment.

'What do you think?' Caithe asked her softly.

'I don't trust him. Look at Malomedies. What if that would have been you...' Faolain trailed off, but then got herself together and looked at the asura again. 'Let's get rid of him.' Niamh stepped forward.

'He gave us information. Let him get his group home.' She lowered Faolain's hands. 'There is no more need for violence.'

'I agree with Niamh,' Caithe said. She looked around the group, and they nodded in silence. Cadeyrn's eyes burned, but bent his head submissively. Malomedies untangled himself from Kahedins carefully, and then decided the argument with a single sentence, voice creaking.

'The asura speaks the truth, let him go.'


	14. Close To You

Malomedies returned to the Grove. Under Kahedins' care, he gradually regained his strength. His mutilated legs healed, thickening back up, and then the leaves grew back. His face regained its former shape. His long fingers became nimble again.

Kahedins reassured him every day that he would be beautiful once more. It made him smile, but he'd shake his head. Things would not go back to normal. One night, they sat under the clear sky, watching the stars together. Kahedins leaned his head on Malomedies' shoulder, and sighed happily. Malomedies looked up at the sky.

'If you ever lose your way, Kahedins,' he said, voice rich and deep, like once when he stepped out of his pod. 'That star is the North Star, and it remains right there where it is now.'

'The bright one, over there?' Kahedins asked, looking up.

'Yes, that one,' Malomedies smiled. 'Walk towards it, you go north. So wherever you are, as long as you have that star, you can find your way back to me.' Kahedins stared up with wide eyes.

'What about the other stars?'

'They rotate around the North Star, while keeping their individual distance the same. You could make a drawing of how they are now, and they would be the same tomorrow,' he chuckled as he saw Kahedins was getting confused, 'just rotated.' He looked at his lover, who, to his surprise, nodded.

'I understand.' Kahedins sighed and crawled closer to Malomedies. 'How do you know these things?'

Malomedies smiled at him, before looking up again. 'A friend taught me.'

.

Days became weeks, weeks became months. Caithe helped out in the Grove as much as she could. The Secondborn had turned out to be a group of 25, and not much later the first Thirdborn pod opened. The time between the last Secondborn pod and the first of the Thirdborn had only been a few weeks, not even a month, and the counting system was quickly abandoned. It did not matter if one was Thirdborn or Fiftiethborn, all Sylvari were welcome in the Grove.

Yet the Firstborn had a certain influence that the others didn't. Perhaps it was their time spent in this world that made them more believable, but young Sylvari always looked up to the Firstborn. Caithe felt it was right that way. The saplings had a lot to learn, were bold and reckless, and often got themselves into trouble. Aife, Kahedins, Malomedies and Niamh all had taken up roles to guide the youngest of saplings their first steps into the world. They would tell them where they could sleep, whom to go to with their problems, and just made sure they weren't eaten by a hungry Jungle Stalker on their first day. They divided the Sylvari amongst the four of them based on their Cycle, and coached them to the best of their abilities.

Caithe had helped a few young Thieves, but was more at ease amongst the young Valiants. The Valiants were Sylvari born with Dreams as clear as those the Firstborn had had, and they often set out quickly to chase their Wyld Hunt, their destiny. None of them had as much experience with the outside world as Caithe, and she prepared them for what was out there. Some Sylvari did not heed her warnings, unfortunately, and they felt the blow. Not all Valiants survived.

.

'Again, Sariel. Light on your feet, be quick, don't get hit. You do good damage but you can't heal yourself. Get up,' Faolain said, standing on the side, with her arms crossed. She did not tutor many Sylvari, only those she liked. Sariel had wormed her way into her little clique and often practiced with Faolain privately. She was a Warrior, and an ambitious one. She became more vicious every day.

Faolain made a clone of herself appear, ready to attack. Sariel heaved and picked up her sword. It was human-made, and had been one of the first trades between humans and Sylvari. She charged into the clone, slashing it through. It disappeared, but two more appeared in its place. She quickly turned, skipping from place to place, and slashed the second one through. The third one whirled and cast a spell, which made Sariel cry out and fall on her knees, shielding her face with her hands. When Faolain dismissed the clone and kneeled next to her, Sariel trembled.

'Enough for today, then,' Faolain said, patting Sariel's back.

'Thorns.. that is an awful spell, Firstborn Faolain,' Sariel said, her voice a little shaky. Slowly she lowered her hands and looked at her mentor. Faolain waited for her to speak.

'How do I counter a spell that makes me feel all these horrible fears?' Sariel shook her head. 'I've tried so many times to withstand it, I've withstood everything else, but that is the only thing that brings me down.' To her surprise, Faolain smiled and pulled her up.

'It's simple, Sariel,' Faolain's voice was velvety and seductive, and the warrior felt her heart jump every time that voice spoke her name. 'You just mustn't be afraid.'

'Good advice, as long as you know when to run.' Caithe appeared on the field, walking casually towards the two. Faolain ran towards her and kissed her.

'We all have to learn that for ourselves, don't we?' Sariel said. 'Push our own boundaries. Do you have word from Cadeyrn?' Caithe nodded.

'He asked me to tell you he will be late tonight as he is out with the other Valiants,' Caithe said, allowing Faolain to rest against her. Sariel nodded, for a moment unsure what to say. Caithe raised an eyebrow at her.

'He will be late for.. what exactly?' she chuckled. 'I hope I did not plan the Valiant mission on a special night for the two of you?' Caithe jested her, and Sariel's eyes grew wide.

'What? Thorns, no!' She seemed more exasperated than offended though, and started laughing with them. 'I would never do such things with Cadeyrn!' Faolain chuckled at that. Sariel scratched the back of her head, hesitating for a moment. However when she spoke, she was confident again.

'It's just a little get-together we have every so often. Canach is usually there, and a few others..' she turned to Faolain, and grasped her hand with both of her own, pleadingly looking up her with wide eyes. 'Faolain, it would be great if you could make it too, tonight.' Sariel's voice trailed off, but she kept looking at Faolain questioningly. Caithe huffed and raised her eyebrows.

'Am I not invited?' She said, a little offended. Sariel smiled apologetically.

'Of course you are! I just think you would not find it as interesting, Firstborn Caithe,' she replied, still not letting go of Faolain's hands. 'Well?'

Faolain looked from one to the other, then shook her head slowly and removed her hand from Sariel's grip. She moved back towards Caithe and interlaced their fingers, almost possessively so.

'I'm sorry, Sariel, dear,' she said slowly, 'but since the Valiants are gone it means Caithe is free tonight. I would like to spend that time with her.' Sariel's smile fell, but she nodded in understanding.

'Another time, perhaps,' she said. 'Perhaps,' Faolain agreed. Sariel bowed curtly and turned to take her leave, when Faolain suddenly threw Caithe a mischievous look. She waited until Sariel had turned around and started walking away from them, then she let her magic spark between her fingertips. Caithe's eyes widened as she realized what was happening, but was too late to stop her. Faolain quickly cast the spell on Sariel's unprotected back, and the girl screamed in anguish again, stumbling and falling, barely keeping herself from landing on her face.

Faolain laughed out loud, crisp as a bell ringing over the field. Caithe did not see the humour in this, but decided not to disappoint her lover, and called out to Sariel.

'Always be on guard, warrior!' They stood for a moment, watching Sariel get back up. Faolain chuckled softly and Caithe wrapped an arm around her. Her lover pulled her away from the training fields, and with a smile on her face, Caithe followed her elegant form into the more secluded parts of the forest.

.

They sat together until the sun started to sink down and disappear behind the tops of the trees, making the light scatter in patches and highlighting the details of the forest. Caithe lay relaxedly on the soft moss, her head resting in Faolain's lap. Her lover was idly playing with the tips of her leafy hair. Caithe sighed contentedly.

'It's been a while since we've had time like this,' she said, more to herself than to the other. Faolain hummed in response. 'It's so busy with all the new Sylvari in the Grove..' Caithe continued, reaching upwards and caressing Faolain's cheek, whom leaned into the touch and smiled.

'Remember when it was just twelve of us?' Caithe reminisced, grinning a little. 'It seems so long ago already.'

'Remember when it was just the two of us?' Faolain answered. 'I'd love to go explore again.' Caithe smiled and sat up, moving close to her and pressing her forehead against Faolain's.

'You know we can't. Not now. There's too much to be done here. Perhaps when the other Sylvari have gotten a bit routined in training the younger ones. Right now, we're all they have,' she said softly, sighing a bit. Faolain draped her arms around Caithe's shoulders, pulling her closer still, and gave her a questioning look.

'But yes, I would like to go on another journey with you, as well,' Caithe confessed, a bit reluctantly. Faolain smiled at that.

'Then why don't we?' she whispered seductively. 'We managed just fine on our own, I bet the saplings will do great even without us.' She pulled her torso up to push her chest against Caithe, slowly kissing down her neck, her warm breath playing over Caithe's skin.

'We have responsibilities, Faolain,' Caithe gasped, softly, but turned her head to give Faolain room to move. Then there were long fingers in her hair and her own on Faolain's bare back and her lover's teeth scraping lovingly over her shoulder. Caithe shivered, and moved away a little to look the other in the eyes. Faolain grasped this opportunity to capture Caithe's lips with her own, and she kissed her slowly and deeply. Caithe felt her arms move around her lover as if they had a mind on her own. Before Faolain could break the kiss, Caithe pushed her down and leaned on her, hands roaming and legs entwining.

When she pulled back, they both gasped quietly for breath. Faolain twirled Caithe's hair around her fingers.

'But you are my only responsibility, Caithe,' Faolain whispered to her, 'You are all that is important to me.' Caithe chuckled, breathing Faolain's name before plunging into another kiss. Faolain arched into it, her legs folding around Caithe's body and pulling her closer still. Then she braced herself against the moss and rolled them both over, ending up on top of Caithe. She sat up, straddling Caithe's hips, and leaned her forward, her hands on her lover's shoulders. Caithe felt her cheeks heat up.

'I mean it, my love. We owe these Sylvari nothing. Why don't we do what our hearts tell us to do?' Faolain said, still pinning the other down. Her bright eyes burned with mischief and enthusiasm. Caithe smiled, but then sighed and slowly shook her head. She pushed Faolain back to sit up, and grasped her chin tenderly to make her meet her gaze.

'I know, my love. I feel the same,' Caithe hesitated for a moment, 'but we stay so that all these Sylvari can follow their hearts, too. Don't you want that? Don't you want them to be happy too?' Caithe slowly rocked them back and forth, but she saw Faolain's eyes narrow.

'I don't care about them. I just care about you,' Faolain's voice had dropped to a mere hiss. She ran her fingers through Caithe's hair, and Caithe could feel her nails scrape at the back of her scalp. Involuntarily she felt her hands tighten around Faolain's hips. Faolain let her hands slide down Caithe's hair and then closed her fingers around her neck, pushing Caithe's face upwards with the nails of her thumbs against Caithe's chin. She moved closer, her lips ghosting over Caithe's, her breath warm on her lover's skin. Caithe made a sound that was both involuntary and unexpected, and sounded much like a desperate stammer. Faolain chuckled softly.

'The things I could do to you, Caithe,' she said, her voice soft and alluring, slowly placing kisses down Caithe's neck and collarbone, 'if only you would set aside your silly responsibilities,' her sentence was cut off by her own breathy sound as Caithe ran her hands up her sides and then down her back.

'They are your responsibilities too, you know. You are Firstborn as much as I am,' Caithe whispered smugly. Faolain grunted low in her throat and pushed her lover down on her back again. Her kiss was strong and forceful and Caithe sensed her frustration. She tried to soothe her by rubbing small circles on her back, and she could feel the other respond. They broke apart, both slightly panting. Caithe looked up into sad eyes.

'How far would you go for me, Caithe?' Faolain asked suddenly. 'Would you leave the Grove if I asked you to? Would you choose me, over everyone else?' Caithe's eyes widened, and she tried to pry herself free, but Faolain pinned her down with her entire weight.

'Would you, Caithe?' She pleaded again. Caithe was silent for a moment. Then she wormed her arm between them and pushed Faolain off of her in a fluid motion. She sat up, a little annoyed.

'I know what you are trying to do, my love. You know how much you mean to me. But we can't be selfish now. We have to stay.' Caithe's voice was resolute, and perhaps harsher than she'd intended. Faolain pushed herself up from the moss and crossed her arms.

'Do I really mean a lot to you? As much as you mean to me?'

'Faolain..' Caithe pleaded, and reached out for her. Her lover moved away instead of closer, and Caithe looked hurt.

'I just want to stay right at your side, my love,' she said, softly. 'There's nothing else that I want, if not just to be with you.'

'And yet you won't.' Faolain snapped. She looked hurt, angry even.

'Please don't do this to me, Faolain,' Caithe asked her, looking genuinely torn now. Faolain looked at her once, then stood up and almost soundlessly walked away. Caithe followed her, crying out for her, begging her to stay, but the other shrouded herself in magic and disappeared between the trees.

.

'Canach, if you go to Lion's Arch, that will be totally lame!' Cadeyrn shouted. He sat amidst a group of around fifteen Sylvari, most of them of his generation, but some of them had brought their younger friends, as well. They had gathered in a small clearing, hidden by hanging vines and willow trees, There were rocks and trunks to sit on, and they had brought food and alcohol. Cadeyrn sat on a large rock in the middle, loudly telling stories of his adventurous mission with the Valiants. Canach sat next to him, quietly downing a large amount of wine in a rather short time. Sariel had gathered with her friends in another corner, trying to drown out the sound of Cadeyrn's voice.

'I mean, you should totally be my right hand!'

'I should.. what?' Canach asked, confusedly looking at his own hands and then at Cadeyrn. 'Are you missing a hand?'

'No, man. You should be my squire!' Cadeyrn said drunkenly. His drink swayed in his hand, almost spilling. Canach laughed deep in his throat.

'You're a lightweight, Cadeyrn, look at you! And besides, I would never be your squire. Some knight you are, you can't even impress the girl you like!'

'How do you know who I like, huh? Huh?!' Cadeyrn accused him, slurring his words and straining to point his finger at his friend. He saw double and groaned, and after a moment's hesitation he gave his cup to Canach, who downed it without a second thought.

'You're right. She never even notices me..' Cadeyrn said, suddenly sad.

'Who doesn't?' Sariel asked as she walked over and sat beside them. Cadeyrn turned starry eyed at the thought of his love and he fell to one knee, raising one hand to the stars and placing the other on his heart, reciting his words like a poet.

'My one true love! The Firstborn-' his sentence was cut off by hysterical laughter from both Sariel and Canach.

'A Firstborn! Oh oh, I don't even have to know who it is! Oh, by the Tree!' Sariel spat out between her laughing. 'Cadeyrn, you are hilarious. Even more so when drunk, I might add,' she finally said when the laughter died away, and she wiped the tears from her eyes. Canach held his aching sides and tried to smooth out his face, but failed miserably. Cadeyrn had his one arm raised still in his dramatic pose, but now looked a little disappointed at his friends.

'Come on, guys! My heart aches for her!' He tried, pouting like a child. It only made Sariel burst out into laughter again.

'Yes, I'm sure thát face will seduce a Firstborn!' she cried. Canach patted his friend on his shoulder and made him sit down again. Cadeyrn tried to regain his air of superiority, but his ego was visibly struck.

'So who is this destined love, Cadeyrn?' Canach asked, snorting. Yet when Cadeyrn looked at him he made a serious face. For a second.

'She is beautiful,' Cadeyrn started, dreamily, 'she is brave and smart, and a very skilled fighter, I might add. So fierce and strong...' he trailed off, wandering in daydreams only he could see. Sariel bent forward and leaned her elbows on her knees.

'So? Who?' she asked. Cadeyrn looked at her with raised eyebrows, as if this description should have made it crystal clear already.

'What? Why, Firstborn Caithe of course!' Cadeyrn braced himself for another round of laughter, but none came. Canach bit his lip and looked away, and Sariel just raised one eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed.

'Come on, Cadeyrn. You know she is totally taken! Nothing can break Firstborn Caithe from Faolain,' she stated, matter-of-factly. She crossed her arms and looked at him mockingly, as if asking him _what-ya-gonna-do-about-it. _Cadeyrn huffed.

'Ah, it is only a matter of time before my love Caithe recognizes my superiority and then she'll regret not having loved me from the day she met me!' He spoke, his poetic tone back from before, and this time he included some wide, sweeping gestures, too. 'She'll come crawling to my doorstep, and I, gracious host, shall let her in, and make lo-'

'Stop, stop! I cannot take it!' Sariel howled with laughter, and Canach spat out his drink, coughing and laughing at the same time. Cadeyrn waited sourly until they caught their breath, taking another drink for his misery.

'You two, are the worst friends I have ever had,' he said, but smiled again when Canach draped an arm around his shoulder.

'So tell me, brave Valiant Cadeyrn, what will you do to impress her?' Canach rumbled with his deep voice. Even though his tone was mocking, Cadeyrn seemed glad he asked.

'Well,' he started, putting down his drink for emphasis, 'I was thinking to right a wrong from the past.' He paused dramatically, looking at his friends. They both were silent, waiting for him to continue. 'In my opinion, the peace with the asura was made far too easily. Our sacrifice was great. As you know, what happened to Firstborn Malomedies was a tragedy in all aspects. Firstborn Malomedies is a cherished friend of my dearest Caithe, and so, to impress her, I will avenge his pain.' Sariel had a look of utter disbelief on her face, but remained silent. Cadeyrn grinned smugly.

'I have been secretly negotiating with the Hylek for a most explosive potion. It will cost a good coin but with that,' another dramatic pause followed. Canach had his drink lifted towards his mouth, but had forgotten to drink, focused as he was on Cadeyrn.

'With that, I will burn down Rata Sum.' Cadeyrn let the silence draw out after his sentence, basking in the glory of his impressed friends. Slowly he realized that the whole clearing had become silent, and many pairs of eyes were directed at him. 'Avenge Malomedies?' Sariel whispered, 'By yourself? Are you mad?'

A light murmur went through the crowd. Sylvari gasped and quickly chattered with each other, voices low. Cadeyrn looked around, gathered his courage and then raised his voice, standing up and speaking to the Sylvari.

'Yes, I want to avenge Firstborn Malomedies. The asura have gotten away with their crimes for far too long!' He made a fist to give his statement strength. A muscular sylvari called Brangoire stood up and nodded at Cadeyrn.

'I would aid you. The asura have indeed been unpunished for far too long.' A few Sylvari agreed shyly, and Cadeyrn felt strengthened.

'By burning down Rata Sum, we would show them who's really boss around here! We should have a lot more ground than we do now! Why don't we take it?' He himself became excited by the speech, and he felt the gathered Sylvari absorb his energy. Small cheers of _yeah!_ and _stupid asura!_ echoed his words. Then long, elegant fingers lifted the willows aside and a woman revealed herself.

'Impressive. And yet burning down Rata Sum will not make Malomedies feel any more avenged than he is now,' she said, an amused and lingering tone in her voice. When she appeared, most Sylvari bowed deeply, many of them paired with short gasps of amazement and excitement. Sariel immediately stood up and greeted her politely.

'Firstborn Faolain! I thought, I did not, you said that,' she stammered, then shook her head and cleared her mind, 'Weren't you with Caithe tonight?' Faolain glanced at her, her face unreadable.

'I was,' she answered curtly, and Sariel nodded, she understood not to ask any further. Faolain glanced around the group and advanced on Cadeyrn.

'As I was saying, Malomedies will not _feel_ avenged unless he is convinced to do so, and only then might Caithe change her mind. As you might know, Malomedies merely survived the whole ordeal by passively giving in to it. He never fought them.' Cadeyrn stood trembling before her, still raised above his crowd but now it felt more like uncomfortable exposition than a powerful stand. Yet he had to straighten his mind. This was his moment.

'Why did he do that?' Cadeyrn asked, 'Why didn't he resist?'

'It's the rules, Secondborn,' Faolain answered, and Cadeyrn felt a pang of annoyance at the name. '_Do not fear difficulty_. _Peace within one's soul._ We must not be vengeful.' She looked at him with narrow eyes. 'Do you not agree?'

Cadeyrn shook his head slowly. 'No.. What about _act with wisdom, but act_? He did not act at all! Did he _seize the moment? _Didn't he leave this _wrong to ripen into evil_? Didn't it ripen into evil?' His voice gained volume as he spoke, and he became more certain of himself. The crowd grew in strength with him, and they responded more and more to his cries.

'It is time to act!' Cadeyrn cried. 'It is time to show them that Ventari is not just there to make us easy targets! Without restraints, we will rise to victory!' He raised his fist and roared, and the crowd roared with him, a small group of youngsters, but with the energy of an army. Cadeyrn's gaze found Faolain's, and she looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips.

'Are you in, Firstborn?' Cadeyrn then asked, boldly, encouraged by the cheers and wine.

'Keep talking, Secondborn,' Faolain answered. She sounded more than pleased. 'I like the way you think.'


	15. To Be First

A/N: Hey everyone! My apologies for the delay, I had hoped to put this up in 2012 but life and work interfered, so sorry! I hope you enjoy the new chapter and that you all had awesome holidays! Have fun reading!

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Faolain waited for Caithe in the shadow of the trees at the edge of the field, as she often did. She watched the other Firstborn run around with the Valiants, sparring and training them for what was out there, beyond the Grove. A small frown shifted her features as her eyes followed Caithe's slender frame move. She briefly contemplated walking towards her this time, make herself known to the group, but she stopped herself. There was no need for it. Caithe would come to her of her own accord.

Faolain had been annoyed with the blurring connection between them, which only seemed to get worse with every new Sylvari that was born. She remembered the days where even her thoughts had been intertwined with Caithe's, but those days were long gone. The most she could make up now was strong emotions, if any, and only if she was close by. She dared not admit to herself that it had frightened her, at one point. Yet she shook the feeling from herself like snow from her shoulders. Caithe was near. She could sense her clearly. Her excitement, her enthusiasm, and her light, ringing laugh echoing over the field.

The Valiants liked Caithe. They played with her like they did with their own generation. Even though they respected her, they saw her as one of them. Faolain felt her teeth grind together as she tried to keep in her frustration. Her sharp nails dug into her arms as she held herself, twitching and pinching herself every time a Valiant laughed at Caithe, or came too close, or touched her. She was silently fuming with jealousy, but she remained still, and calm, on the outside. She would endure it, for now.

Forcibly, Faolain relaxed her tensed shoulders. She was merely waiting, yet she had been fixating herself like a hunting Jaguar. When Caithe eventually casually strolled towards her, Faolain had masked her thoughts and transformed her body language. She stood relaxedly leaned against the tree, picking at her nails, only her blazing eyes threatening to betray her troubled thoughts. Caithe was in a good mood, and didn't pick up on it. Faolain felt all her troubles melt away as Caithe interlaced their fingers and pulled her close, and as she leaned her forehead against her lover's cheek, there was a genuine smile on her face.

.

Cadeyrn sat with Canach, not far from the Grove in a makeshift tent. They had been assigned to a scouting party, accompanied by a Firstborn, to make sure the area around the Grove was safe. Canach had a cup in his hand, swirling his alcohol as he thought. They sullenly counted the number of rounds Aife made around the Grove, carrying her bow and guarding the exits. She had not once acknowledged them. With every time she walked by, every twenty minutes or so, Canach felt Cadeyrn grow more and more annoyed.

'It's not fair! How long is she going to make us wait?' Cadeyrn growled out, kicking away a pebble in frustration.

'Apparently it's not safe, Cadeyrn. You can't go patrolling when there's so many threats about.' Canach sighed, as he repeated the same reason again to his friend. Cadeyrn was great, but could be stubborn and unbelievably persistent. He was like the raptor, who would hold onto its prey until it died. Cadeyrn would never let go without a fight.

'Then what is the point of patrolling if we already know there's enemies out there?' Cadeyrn threw up his hands in sheer disbelief. 'We should attack! We should-' His rant was cut off by the soft sound of leather boots approaching the tent. Aife walked by the entrance, threw once glance inside, then readjusted her bow and walked on. For a moment, it was completely silent, then Canach braced himself as if he knew Cadeyrn was going to explode.

'She ignored us again!' Cadeyrn, as expected, yelled, and he jumped up and stomped around. Canach sighed and took another swig. It was going to be a long night. Cadeyrn was not about to stop screaming, and he kicked around the tent with clenched fists.

'By the tree, Cadeyrn, they're going to be able to hear you on the other side of the Grove.' Canach sighed, and flinched when his friend suddenly turned and screamed 'I DON'T CARE!' . It left both him and Canach heaving. The tentflap moved and Sariel walked in with a look of disbelief on her face. Canach lifted a hand in greeting and smiled at her. Cadeyrn turned his back, crossed his arms and refused to look at her.

'It's just you two? Thorns, I thought something finally killed Cadeyrn.' She smirked at Cadeyrns shocked expression and then grinned as his cheeks burned red in offense. 'Would have been nice and quiet. Besides, you were screaming like an animal being skinned alive. What's up?'

Cadeyrn slumped down next to Canach, sulkily leaning on his shoulder, and Sariel elegantly sat across from them. Canach threw one look at his friend, but allowed the proximity with a grin and another swig of his drink.

'It's just that she is ignoring us,' Cadeyrn whined, drawing out all the vowels. 'Aife is ignoring us! And I hate sitting inside being excluded from all the fun!'

'You call preparing for battle fun?' Sariel mocked him, one hand on her sword. 'You should have been a Warrior, like me.'

'And team up with you? Never.' He hissed, an arrogant smirk on his face.

'You'll never get a battle with that attitude.' She retorted, and his smile fell. Canach chuckled, and Cadeyrn mock-punched his shoulder. 'You should be on my side!' He cried, but Canach just shrugged.

'Cadeyrn?' A feminine voice asked, and another figure entered the tent, blocking the light coming from the entrance for a few moments. The three youngsters looked up, Sariel turned her shoulders to see who entered.

'Firstborn Caithe!' Cadeyrn stammered out, and stood up, then sat down again, then decided that sitting on one knee was probably the best way to answer her call - until Canach picked him up and put him on his two feet, hissing 'Behave, would you?' in his ear.

'You were one of my Valiants, weren't you?' Caithe asked. Her tone wasn't unfriendly, then again, she seemed unsure of her statement. When Cadeyrn nodded ferociously however, she smiled. She need not have doubted her memory. 'Ah, yes.'

'You remember me, right?' Cadeyrn asked. Caithe chuckled lightly.

'Yes, you always were an exceptional troublemaker,' she said, obviously amused, while Cadeyrns' expression changed slowly from excited to surprised to less than happy. His lower eyelid twitched as Sariel tried not to laugh, and hissed under her breath 'Well, at least you were exceptional at _something, _then.' Caithe looked at her amusedly, but then her expression turned serious and she turned to Cadeyrn again.

'I got a complaint from Aife. You go on like this, and we'll never need scout parties again - everyone will already know where we are. Behaviour like this could get you taken off the squad, Valiant.'

'Y-yes Caithe. It won't happen again.' Cadeyrn stammered again, but then recovered himself a bit. He stepped forward and asked her in a low, sultry voice, 'Is there anything I could do to make it up to you?'

Caithe looked at him once, then raised her eyebrow and simply answered, 'No,' before turning on her heel and leaving the tent. Sariel's blurting laugh was the first thing to break the tensed silence. Cadeyrn stood for a moment, mouth agape, Sariel's menacing laugh ringing in his ears, and then he shook off his confusion and ran after Caithe.

.

'Caithe, wait!' Cadeyrn shouted, dashing through the low foliage and reaching Caithe. He grabbed her wrist and turned her to look at him as he came to a grinding halt. 'You're just going to leave? Just like that?' He asked, panting. She just raised her eyebrows in surprise.

'Yes?'

'What about Aife?' He asked, even more confused.

'She will decide on further activities?' Caithe slowly answered, taking on the same surprised and confused expression as Cadeyrn was wearing. Cadeyrn growled in frustration, tried to speak but couldn't find the words. Finally he ground out, 'then what about _me_?!'

'What _about_ you, Cadeyrn?' Caithe asked, exasperated. She shook her head in utter confusion. Cadeyrn's brows furrowed together as he hissed between his teeth and he tugged Caithe's wrist again, which made Caithe narrow her eyes and try to pry her hand free, but he would not let go.

'What about _us_?!' he almost yelled. Caithe freed her hand and smacked Cadeyrn's away.

'There _is_ no us!' she answered, getting really worked up as well, even though she wasn't quite sure what she was angry about. The tension seemed to bounce back and forth between them and grow stronger with every minute. Cadeyrn's voice tore as he broke into a frustrated scream.

'You, you Firstborn think you know everything!' He cried, pointing accusingly at Caithe. 'Telling us what to do! Whom to be with! How to act! Just because you are older!' He breathed in sharply before continuing, almost sobbing, 'You are not the only ones here! Your ways aren't the only ones! You all being close with the Mother Tree and thinking you are _special-_' Cadeyrn yelled and heaved until Caithe interrupted him there, her gaze cold as ice, she seemed twice as tall all of a sudden.

'We are,' she said, her voice like needles, piercing sharp. 'We have explored, cultivated this world, for the likes of you, Cadeyrn. You weren't there. You know nothing of this world. If you are not one of us, if you are not Firstborn, then you are simply Sylvari.' For a moment, it was totally quiet. Then Caithe huffed and stepped back, hissing, 'We know what is best for you, Cadeyrn. You would be wise to heed our advice,' before disappearing in the shadows. Cadeyrn kicked a nearby tree in sheer desperation, and cried out when it didn't solve anything.

.

It was a good twenty minutes before Cadeyrn could think clearly again. He had been walking aimlessly through the forest, not even caring if he or anyone else was in danger. His head hurt, as did his heart. It ached with a feeling he could not quite describe, but it resembled disappointment and frustration and, to his surprise, fear. Caithe's face kept reappearing before his mind's eye, and he could not shake the cold feeling that accompanied it. She, of all Sylvari, should have understood him. She should have realized whom she'd had before her. That he was special. That they need not act like this to him.

He _was_ one of them, even if they didn't think so. Cadeyrn's teeth ground together as he silently vowed never to be '_simply Sylvari_'. Caithe just didn't understand yet. But, with time, she would see reason, of course, and then she would submit to him, and apologize and give him all the attention he deserved. He was first of the Secondborn, after all. He was the first of the tidal wave of Sylvari to touch the ground, the first of the many that would follow, the fastest, the best developed, the first... He sighed. The first, but still late. Twelve had surpassed him, and built the Grove from the very ground. As they told him, they even developed how to communicate with one another, developed the society they were today.

To Cadeyrn, it meant nothing. He had been born with all the knowledge the Firstborn had collected. He had never left the Grove, yet he knew what a stone wall felt like, and he knew the taste of snow. He would never understand what it was like to speak to one another, to open up, for the very first time. And so, he questioned the Firstborn, time and time again, until he started questioning himself.

Perhaps they were right not to acknowledge him. But on the other hand.. Cadeyrn sat down on a rock and rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. He thought back to his very first moments, to opening his eyes in a world with dimmed colours, where everything was blurry and ghostly figures walked beside you. Faces out of focus, except for the ones that mattered. The world lit by spotlights that accentuated what needed to be seen. The Dream. His Dream.

Cadeyrn had dreamt of many faceless Sylvari. He had heard their cheers, their roars, he was born to be a leader. He was at the front, leading them, a shining sword in his hand. The faceless Sylvari followed him like a majestic, giant shadow. They had roamed and conquered, fighting other faceless Sylvari, while the dragons roared above them. And then Caithe had appeared, with cold, disappointed eyes and he wanted, needed so badly to change that expression on her face. He wanted to make her smile at him, no, adore him, but she looked not at him, she looked at something behind him with that sad expression, and as he slowly turned around, the only thing he saw were blazing, frighteningly bright eyes.

After that, his Pod had opened, and Cadeyrn had pronounced his name and earned his freedom. He had heard of other Dreams, of joining a community, or finding a certain other Sylvari, or restoring a nation, like Trahearne's Dream had been. None had been like his. Some had been as vague, but none had been as disturbing, or frightening. Dagonet had found it most interesting, but had been unable to decipher it any more than he could. Cadeyrn shook his head in defeat again. If only he could talk to the Pale Tree, but no, he was not quite Firstborn enough for that. She had never even appeared to him, the Mother Tree, while the Firstborn slept at her feet. What injustice had he done to deserve this? Was his very existence the reason they treated him so?

No, something had to change. Cadeyrn slowly opened his eyes, staring at the forest bedding. His voice was a fleeting whisper in the wind as he murmured to himself.

'If the world stays like this,' he said, still staring at the ground, but his fingers had interlaced and he squeezed his hands until the knuckles shone white, 'then my Dream will be nothing but a nightmare. It will haunt me for the rest of my existence, but I will never get to fulfill it. And even if I do, it will all end in misery. '

The wind picked up in strength, forcing the cold onto his arms. Yet something made his skin shiver, that was not the cold. Not far from him, a dark figure stood half hidden in the shadows. He recognized her shape as she stood, motionlessly blending in with the environment, and he wondered how long she had been there. Cadeyrn swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the cold, fearful feeling that had suddenly emerged in his stomach. A single sweatdrop ran down his neck onto his back.

'Firstborn Faolain?' He asked, but it was barely a whisper, and the wind stole the sound and took it. Had he not moved his lips, it would have been impossible for anyone to know he had spoken, but Faolain picked up on it, and slowly moved towards him.

'Secondborn,' she said, her voice also low, and thoughtful, 'I might have known it was you. And yet, I did not.' They looked at each other with mirrored curiosity.

'What was me? I mean, how did you know I was here?' Cadeyrn asked, a little louder. He looked up at her from where he sat, and contemplated standing up, but on the other hand, it felt like making sudden movements was a bad idea.

'I sensed you,' Faolain answered, never breaking eye contact. 'I sensed hurt and angry and unfair and _something else_,' she spoke slowly, trying to recall and name the feelings she had experienced. 'Something dangerous. Something familiar. It drew me.' She carefully extended her hand towards him, as if to touch his face, but drew it back before she reached her goal. Cadeyrn followed her fingertips with wide eyes, edging back slightly when she reached out, but when she retracted her hand, he stood up with a stammering, involuntary sound, as if he had been pulled up by an invisible thread.

Cadeyrn stood eye to eye with her now. He looked at her, her dark, leafy skin, so different from Caithe's. She was so ragged and striped and tree-like, where Caithe was smooth and light and soft. And then it struck him. This Firstborn, looking at him with the curiosity of a child, possessed everything Cadeyrn had ever yearned for. _Respect. Privilege. __Power._ Swallowing, he added the last item to his mental list. _And Caithe_.

As he looked into her eyes, he felt he shared her fascination. Why did Caithe desire her above all others? Why did she, of all Sylvari, acknowledge him all of a sudden?

'You spoke of a nightmare,' Faolain stated softly. 'Your Dream is a Nightmare.' Cadeyrn's eyes widened and his throat went dry. A thousand panicky thoughts raced through his head, of how, what he should respond, what would happen, he could barely breathe. Then thin fingers grasped his own, and his searching eyes focused, focused on the woman before him. The overwhelming feeling of the connection felt like a tidal wave over his senses, as if she poured her soul into him right then and there and he drowned in it. When she spoke, it made the world go deadly silent.

'So is mine.'

.

Cadeyrn's breathing was ragged and he was trembling. His fingers had closed around the long, feminine ones in his hand, and he felt the warmth of her palm burn upon his skin. There were so many questions, but he dared to ask none. He saw her shoulders tremble too, and he felt her excitement, but it was soaked in confusion, in concern. He felt incredibly naked, stripped of all barriers, laid bare for her to read, and it was a frightening state of mind. The only thing that made him not pry himself free and run, was the fact the she felt the same, and it was in a strange way comforting to hold their bleeding souls together like this.

'My Dream is also a Nightmare,' she breathed, 'and you are the first,' she hesitated and swallowed, squeezing his fingers in a twitching motion, 'the first to _understand_.'

Cadeyrn drew a shaky breath. He vaguely wondered if this was all an hallucination. He tried to form a sound, failed, but then stepped closer and asked her breathlessly, 'How is your Dream a Nightmare?'

'I dreamt I searched, and I _found_, but..' she looked away from him for the first time to cast her gaze to the side. 'But in the end I must lose it. It cannot be mine forever.'

'What cannot be-' Cadeyrn tried to ask, but Faolain snarled and interrupted him , hissing 'That doesn't matter!' Cadeyrn's brows furrowed and he grabbed her other wrist roughly, pulling her close and staring into her eyes again. Now that she had given him power, now that she had initiated this, he would not be cast back to the lowly rank of generic Sylvari. He would make her his. And then he would possess Caithe through her.

'You will lose _what_?' Cadeyrn growled low in his throat. Faolain's eyes burned as she hissed her response.

'I will lose _her._'

Cadeyrn took a shaky step back, letting go of Faolain's hands. She drew a shivering breath that resembled physical exhaustion. They were both overloaded with emotions and burdened with a connection that had reappeared clearer than ever. Cadeyrn's voice was tormented with Faolain's sorrow as he asked her, 'So that is your purpose then? To suffer?'

'The Dream is corrupted. We could heed its warnings, prepare ourselves, avoid these terrible fates from happening.' She was heaving now. 'But what do we arm ourselves with? Peacefulness? Forgiveness? _Vulnerability?_ ' Her voice was heavy with old sorrow, pent-up fear, and long repressed frustration. Cadeyrn's eyes shone as suddenly all his feelings clicked into place. Suddenly he saw reason behind all the injustice done to him.

'Ventari. It's because of Ventari.' Cadeyrn's eyes were wider than they had ever been, and he rubbed his forehead as he tried to take it all in. 'Ventari's rules make us act like weak little victims, which makes the Dream come true,' he shook his head even though he started to understand. Faolain nodded slowly.

'Yes, even though the Dream makes us believe we should fight for it, instead of against it. But it's useless to fight for our Dream. Caithe will never survive fighting an Elder Dragon. And Trahearne-' Cadeyrn interrupted her as he began to understand, saying what she had been planning to say, what she had never been allowed to say. 'Trahearne's destiny of reviving the lost nation of Orr? It's impossible. There's no way he could do that.' His voice trembled with the graveness of this realization.

'All Dreams are Nightmare,' Faolain said, and Cadeyrn joined in with her, 'and Ventari spirals us down into that despair.' For a moment, they just looked at each other, so relieved to have found someone that shared their thoughts. When Faolain suddenly stepped forward and embraced him tightly, Cadeyrn closed his eyes and smiled. The tables were finally turning.

.

The rain drizzled lightly a few days later, and formed little droplets on Caithe's skin and in her hair, and although it was warm enough, it still made her sticky and uncomfortable. She stood at the edge of the field, now empty, as the Valiants had long gone back to the centre of the Grove. She crossed her arms and sighed in annoyance, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. Finally the shrubbery rustled and Faolain appeared, walking towards Caithe in a hasty pace. She grasped her hands and tenderly interlaced their fingers as she greeted her with a smile. Caithe frowned at her for a moment before letting go of her annoyance and warmly greeting her back.

'Where have you been? You are never late,' Caithe asked, while pressing their foreheads together.

'Oh, I was with Sariel and Cadeyrn,' Faolain said, waving it away like it was nothing, but Caithe lifted her head and peered at her lover.

'That troublesome Secondborn again? I did not know you.. liked him,' Caithe said, disbelief in her voice, she could hardly imagine Faolain being able to bear with him at all.

'It is not like that,' Faolain said, 'he is just interesting.' Caithe looked at her with narrowed eyes, until Faolain leaned in and kissed her concerns away. A small smirk appeared on her face and Caithe grabbed Faolain's hand to lead her away, and playfully, they disappeared together in the dark, secluded forest.


	16. Conflicting Interests

A/N: My apologies for the lateness of this chapter! Work caught up with me, unfortunately. We are rapidly nearing the end of this story so I hope you enjoy!

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The night fell, thousands of tiny stars shining over the Grove. Crickets chirped quietly, and the wind rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. Around a small campfire three gracious Sylvari women rested from a long day. Their modest fire burned and popped, eating away at the block of wood they had started it on. Most of it had turned black and charred already, and the flames began decreasing in size. The light of the fire reflected in the sword stuck in the ground, and Sariel stared at it, followed the dancing lights with her eyes, and sighed. Across from her, a proud Sylvari with remarkably high cheekbones, and bright aqua eyes sat. She, as well, stared at the fire, a content smile on her face.

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' she sighed, and the girl next to her, a sapling still, nodded enthusiastically. Sariel smiled at the young one, then shifted her gaze to look at the woman protecting her. Serame had been her friend since she had emerged from her pod. Sariel had been there, had watched it happen, and the first thing they felt when their gazes locked, was a connection deeper than friendship.

It wasn't love. Sariel didn't even notice she was staring at Serame, those hollow cheeks seeming even deeper by the light of the fire. No, Sariel only felt love for one she knew she could never have. She would work for it. She would fight for it, until her last day, even if it had been futile from the beginning. Yet Serame she was something different. Sariel loved her like a sister, and at the same time hated her like a sister. She could not stand being outdone by her, she could not even stand being with her for too long. And on the other hand, she didn't want to leave her alone either.

The object of Sariel's musings suddenly looked up from the fire as the sapling girl fell asleep, leaning her head on her shoulder. She smiled, and carefully shifted the girl's head to her lap, where she could sleep peacefully. She stroked her hair tenderly.

'Sleep, my beloved Lania. Let the night take you away, I will protect you.' Serame's eyes were warm as she looked at the girl. Sariel gritted her teeth. In her head, she imagined herself resting in Faolain's lap, being caressed by her as Serame did young Lania, speaking words of love and hearing them returned. She slowly shook her head. It was hopeless. Although she spent a lot of time with Faolain, it was always pure business. She had never spoken about personal things with the Firstborn, let alone touched her like that. Not that she would dare. Faolain would never allow it, and even if she would- Sariel sighed again. _Even if she would, there's still Caithe to deal with._

'The Firstborn again?' Serame asked, not looking up. Sariel grunted softly, but did not really reply. Her pride did not allow her to.

'You are too docile for her, Sariel,' Serame said slowly, shifting her gaze from her lover's face towards the fire, then to her friend. 'Firstborn Faolain chose Caithe for a reason. Caithe is the only one she can allow herself to follow without rejecting her own pride. Caithe can be at least as strong as she, which is why Faolain must possess her. Don't you understand?' Her voice was soft, she was not trying to hurt Sariel, although her words were harsh. Sariel looked up at her, her fingers closing around her blade. It was reassuring, the familiar feeling of the steel in her fingers, the feeling of strength, of being a warrior.

'She possessed you from the moment she met you, Sariel,' Serame continued, 'which is why you never stood a chance.' They locked eyes, Sariel increasingly aggravated, Serame still infuriatingly calm, with an air of superiority. An offhanded gesture directed both of their gazes down to the fire. 'If mistress Faolain is the flame, then you are but the wood she feeds on, you are replaceable, in a way,' Serame said, then licked her fingers and in one smooth movement pressed on the flames, taking their oxygen and extinguishing them. 'While Caithe is the air she needs to burn.' Sariel stared at the smoking wood with wide eyes. Then she gritted her teeth again and gave her sister a challenging look.

'Then what does that make you?' she asked, sneering. Serame chuckled softly.

'I am the embers that remain.'

.

Voices in the distance broke the growing tension, and even Lania's eyes fluttered open as the noise came closer. Sariel could make out Cadeyrn's obnoxious voice clearly, yet the others were very unclear. She turned and peered into the darkness to see who approached, while Serame conjured a few flames forth in the palms of her hands and re-lit the fire. It took a few tries, but then the flames sprang alive again on the charred wood. Lania fed it a few more fresh branches from the ground.

'Sariel,' a voice said warmly, and she recognized it immediately as Canach. He would truly never leave Cadeyrn's side, now would he?

'Did you meet Lania, Cadeyrn?' Serame asked the other, who came to stand into the fire's light, before nodding curtly at the sapling. Lania giggled, then shyly leaned closer to Serame. Cadeyrn's face took on a proud expression as he returned the favour with a snort.

'Lania, did _you_ meet Firstborn Faolain yet?' The sapling's eyes shot open wide as Faolain appeared at Cadeyrn's side, and Sariel stood up with a gasp. Faolain immediately extended her hand and the tips of her fingers touched Sariel's chest ever so slightly.

'At ease, warrior,' Faolain said, her voice low, yet it pierced the air. 'You are not on duty, Sariel, no need to be so tense.' Sariel's mouth went dry and after a few moments of hesitation, she just nodded and sat back down. To her surprise, Faolain sat down next to her, elegantly folding her legs underneath her dress. She looked around the group, amber eyes unreadable. Serame nodded her head humbly at the Firstborn, but she gave no response. Lania just stared wide-eyed, holding on to Serame's sleeve. Cadeyrn slumped down at a free spot and Canach joined on the other side. Sariel watching them for a while, feeling like something was off - until she noticed Canach was not holding a drink of some sorts. Canach himself seemed uncomfortable too, not sure where to leave his hands.

The group sat in silence for a moment, waiting for one of them to break the ice. Many questions were raised but left unspoken.

'So,' Cadeyrn began eventually, his way of speaking slightly imitating Faolain's, in a futile hope of sounding more impressive, 'I need to speak to all of you about your Dream.' He paused for a moment, as the others looked at him questioningly. Sariel repressed several remarks about not wasting the Firstborn's time, and kept quiet. Instead, she studied Faolain's face, who stared into the fire just like Serame had done. The fire reflected in her eyes, as if she burned on the inside. There was not a single hint of annoyance, of disdain, at Cadeyrn's actions in her expression. Sariel looked at her with disbelief. Was she really going to allow Cadeyrn to blabber about his Dream?

'I know I have spoken about Ventari before,' Cadeyrn continued, slowly overthinking his words. 'But now I ask of you to think about your Dream outside of the, the, eh-' Cadeyrn muttered, seeking for the right word. Faolain supplied it without even looking up from the fire.

'Restraints.'

'Ah! The restraints put on us by the rules of the Tablet.' Another silence fell. Sariel just stared in disbelief at the Firstborn. She had discussed this with Cadeyrn _beforehand_?

'I want you to think just about what you exactly saw, and not interpret what needs to be done yet.' Serame's gaze crossed Sariel's. They both were questioning, and weary, but Sariel's tension was aimed at Cadeyrn, while Serame's was aimed at Faolain. She seemed to be waiting for something, eagerly hoping for something to happen. Sariel succumbed to the absurd situation.

'Fine. Do you want me to describe it, Cadeyrn?' She asked, and the man nodded. Her glance went to the Firstborn again, but she was still staring into the fire.

'I dreamt of a camp, where many Sylvari gathered. I dreamt of this very sword, and,' she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts, 'I dreamt of you, Firstborn Faolain. I dreamt of a secluded place, with a lake and a tall, dark tree. But then.. I dreamt of agony. I dreamt of being surrounded, of fear..' Sariel trailed off. She did not feel like sharing any details of her Dream. When she looked up, she noticed Faolain's burning eyes were focused on her.

'She has it too, Cadeyrn,' Faolain said, 'she is also part of the Nightmare.'

'This can't be a coincidence. It can't be!' Cadeyrn made a fist, unsure whether to be pained or euphoric. He excitedly turned to Serame, 'And you? What was your dream like?'

By the time the group broke up, the dawn had already arrived.

.

Caithe woke early in the morning, alone in her house. She looked around, but Faolain was nowhere in sight. She checked for any signs that she had been here, she could have arrived late and left early of course, but there were none. Caithe got up, supple and agile like always, but found herself to be slightly distraught by Faolain's absence, and sighed. It had been another night, of a few in a row already, that she had spent alone, and it made her feel cold and sad now that she thought about it.

Caithe wondered what could have taken her lover, what would have kept her from her side for so long, if anything, it just seemed so unlike her. Absently musing Caithe gathered her belongings for the day and splashed some water in her face. She wondered if she should worry. The realization made her lower her hands and stop all movement for a moment.

They had made it to a point where Caithe wondered _whether_ she needed to worry. In all their time together, the explorations and travels, the very first beginnings of the Grove, Caithe had always just outright worried. There would have been no question. Images flashed before her mind's eye, a frozen lake and a room in a tower and the clearing. When she closed her eyes she could even feel fears that had not been originally hers. With their connection blurring more and more each day, there was no way of knowing if anything had happened. Caithe's eyes widened. Suddenly she remembered in all clarity the feeling of a part being torn from the Dream when Riannoc disappeared. She gasped and leaned on the table, trying to force herself to calm down.

A soft knock on the door, followed by a deep voice, shook Caithe from her thoughts. A small spark of hope flared in her heart, but immediately died as she realized Faolain would never have knocked on the door, she would simply have opened it.

'Caithe?' She recognized the voice as Malomedies', and the entrance slid open to let him in. He stepped in carefully, still slightly leaning on a cane he used for support. Caithe smiled when she saw him.

'Malomedies,' she said warmly, then added, 'It has been a while.' The man nodded and sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, giving him a curious look. Malomedies was usually with his saplings, or studying the Dream, and did not see many of the Firstborn often, apart from Kahedins.

'You were troubled,' Malomedies said. 'Now that I am here, I might as well ask you the cause.' His tone wasn't unfriendly, but Caithe found he had an air of authority that made it difficult to deny him anything. She hesitated for a moment, but knew Malomedies was to be trusted, so after exchanging looks, she leaned her head on her hand and gave in.

'It's Faolain,' she said, sighing a little, 'I was just about to go looking for her. She hasn't shown herself for several days and it doesn't sit right with me.'

'So you noticed something as well?' Malomedies asked, and it made Caithe jerk up and look at him with wide eyes.

'What do you mean?'

'Did you not then?'

'I, well -' Caithe hesitated again. 'We fight a lot more than we used to. Her mood is unpredictable, even moreso than usual. And this constant absence.. ' She trailed off, looking at the other to see if he gave any sign of recognition. He just cast his eyes down however, humming and nodding, and stroked his chin.

'I spoke to Faolain two nights back,' He answered slowly, a thoughtful look on his face, 'She seemed,' a pause, in which he sought for the right word, 'far away, as it were. And I recognized a feeling I had felt before, when I wasn't here in the Grove.' He stopped, and Caithe wondered if she should urge him on to talk more, or if she should not. Malomedies had never told much about his time in Rata Sum, and did not seem very eager to do so now.

'What kind of feeling?' Caithe asked quietly. It felt as if a block of ice had been dumped into her stomach. How could she not have noticed anything, if other Sylvari did? She should have been the one closest to Faolain, the first to realize. It made her upset, and jealous.

'I cannot describe it,' Malomedies sighed. 'Something dark, and dangerous. I had hoped you knew.' They looked at each other for a moment, and Caithe wondered what would be best to ask him next.

'I did feel like she was envious, more than before,' Caithe said, tapping her knuckles on the table. 'But she always made sure to try and hide it.'

'And she is good at that,' Malomedies supplied.

'She is very good at that,' Caithe agreed. The cold feeling in her stomach grew steadily colder as she realized she might have missed a lot of signs, by brushing them off as simple whims of Faolain's mood.

'Keep an eye on her,' Malomedies said eventually, as if they had reached a conclusion. 'It is not often I am truly worried, but she worries me.'

'She can take care of herself,' Caithe retorted, almost laughing about this. Honestly, she was Firstborn just like him, and nothing had quite taken her down yet. Malomedies smiled at that, nodding in agreement.

'Oh, she certainly can. It is those around her, I am worried about.' His gaze seemed to pierce Caithe, and she knew he meant her as well. Caithe stood up, clenching her fists, trying to ignore the fear that was growing in her heart.

'I will find her.'

.

Outside the Grove, in a valley where the vines were twisted and the high trees grew so thickly, that barely any sunlight shimmered through, was where Caithe found her love. A small crowd of around fifty Sylvari had gathered, Caithe had felt their rowdy excitement from quite a distance away. She followed the buzzing feeling, and finally turned a well-hidden corner. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw. The Sylvari were all staring at one point before them, cheering and applauding. On a an elevated part of the clearing, at the other end of the field Cadeyrn sat, lifted above the crowd on his make-shift stage, in a twisted throne made from poison ivy and large, burgundy leaves. He had been speaking to his audience, making wide, sweeping gestures to emphasize his points, and the Sylvari became more enthusiastic with the minute. Caithe, in her utter confusion, dropped her cloaking magic and stood, at the very end of the crowd, staring. Cadeyrn noticed her appearance and stopped mid-sentence, then sat up and extended his hand at her, as an inviting motion.

'Why, Caithe,' he said, and the audience turned to look at her, 'How very nice of you to join us. I'll say, I knew you would come to me when the time was right.' He grinned widely, and his audience backed him up with cheers and whistles.

'I'm not here for you, Cadeyrn,' Caithe snarled, then looked around. 'Faolain, where are you?'

'Oh, Caithe,' Faolain answered, slowly appearing from the shadows behind the throne where Cadeyrn sat. 'I missed you, my love,' she said, her entire silhouette was hidden in the dark, but her eyes blazed like fire, lighting beacons in the black. Caithe ran towards her, jumped on the stage, ignoring the shocked sounds of the Sylvari behind her, and grasped Faolain's hands.

'Faolain, where have you been? What are you doing here?' Caithe couldn't stop the sadness and fear from sounding in her voice. Faolain caressed her cheek and smiled at her.

'Caithe, something wonderful has happened. We have been freed of our fears and gained immense power,' she said, sounding genuinely happy, 'a power I will set to use so that nothing will ever drive us apart. No Sylvari, no spirit, no dragon will ever separate us, my love!'

Caithe shook her head in confusion, though she smiled at Faolain's words. 'But nothing ever will! I wonder what sparked this deep-rooted fear in you, my love. You should know, all I want is to be by your side.'

'And you will be,' Faolain whispered, lovingly pressing their foreheads together, 'You shall be forever mine.'

.

Behind her, Cadeyrn had dug his nails so deep into the leaves of his throne that his fingers started bleeding. It was through sheer force of will that he repressed the infuriated snarl he wanted to express.

Everything had been going just fine and dandy until she had come along. He had been in charge over his new movement, preaching his train of thoughts, guiding all these aimless sheep into the right direction. Cadeyrn had even felt powerful over Faolain, silently as she had waited behind him, hovering, letting him speak for her. And those Sylvari in front of him had listened, and cheered and screamed his name. They would follow him. He was their leader. He was the king. And they were at Court.

And then Caithe, fair as always, had appeared before his eye, and for a moment he had thought she was here to finally acknowledge him properly, to apologize, and to rest her soft body at his side obediently. How wrong he had been. She had snarled at him as if he were a dog, too excited in greeting her. He was no dog. He was twice the leader she would ever be. In his mind, Cadeyrn had already surpassed the Mother Tree herself. Obviously he was far more suited, far more consequent, practical and rational to lead a new people to happiness. Or at least, lead them away from the lies of the Dream.

Caithe did not accept his authority. Cadeyrn thought about this. He had not had any actual authority yet, he had borrowed Faolain's voice to gather these listeners. It had been his sound, but her call. He looked at the women before him, who spoke whisperingly, fingers entwined, as if they had forgotten all about the world around them. He saw that smile, that hidden blush on Caithe's face, and again yearned to capture it, to make her look at _him_ that way.

Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. He had borrowed Faolain's authority. He might as well take it from her, she would not need it as he would gain a following quickly, he was certain of this. She was right there, on the stage, and even Caithe would be here to see it. A small grin appeared on Cadeyrn's face. He needed, no, he _wanted_ to take her down, in front of the entire audience. Then they would know who was a true leader, and who was _simply_ _Sylvari_. Cadeyrn slowly realized he was actually looking forward to this, that he wanted to see what her face looked like in severe pain - he wanted to see her _die._

He almost wanted to sit back and enjoy the show. A few moments from now, a brighter future would unfold for him, and he would change the path, and the miserable fate set out for him. He would be elevated from Secondborn to King of Firstborn. He would have any Sylvari at his disposal, and those he liked at his side, or in his bed. Caithe would be his at last. Never again would Sariel or Canach dare to even disagree with him, let alone laugh at him. He would change it all, and it would start with this. He would make his own destiny, and take whatever he needed to make it happen.

He gestured to Sariel and waved her closer. She bent over slightly, holding her head closer to him to hear his whispered command.

'Take the Firstborn. She will be the first sacrifice to the Nightmare.'

Sariel's eyes widened slightly, but then nodded, a solemn look on her face. Only her eyes betrayed a spark of hope, of grasping opportunities.

She stepped forward, unsheathed her sword, and attacked Caithe.


	17. No More

The Warrior stood, unmoving, as she had been for at least the past thirty minutes. She was located next to Cadeyrn's throne, at his left hand, her hand always on the hilt of her sword, ready to strike. While the assignment of her position as main guard had flattered her, Sariel had been happy about it for a lot of different reasons. She was glad Cadeyrn trusted her, firstly, since even she felt the tides changing in the Grove, and she was allowed to stand at the roots of the process, watching the revolution grow and unfold before her. Yet, to be in Cadeyrn's presence had another advantage altogether.

Her eyes darted from the crowd to Cadeyrn at her side, and then to the two Firstborn in front of him. Caithe stood with her back turned to her, speaking with Faolain in a hushed tone. She could see Faolain's long fingers caress Caithe's cheek, and stared at those sparkling eyes, so alive, blazing with such love. Love directed at Caithe. Even though every second a dagger was stabbed through her heart, Sariel could not look away. She kept watching, tormenting herself, wishing, forcing herself to believe Faolain was looking at _her_ that way. Sometimes, if she focused intensely enough, she could even feel the touch of those hands on her face, feel the warmth of her breath on her lips, that body against her...

The crowd grew rowdy, and returned Sariel from her musings to the situation at hand. She looked around, not sure whether to act or to stay. And then she noticed Cadeyrn's waving hand, and she bent closer to hear him.

'Take the Firstborn. She will be the first sacrifice to the Nightmare.' He had whispered it, almost mockingly. His order confused her, and her heart raced. Her gaze fell once again on the two Firstborn. Suddenly, all her thoughts ran through her head in top speed, and the world seemed to slow down as she stepped forward. Before she had realized it, she had already made her choice. She knew Cadeyrn had meant Faolain. She knew he loved Caithe. She realized what he was trying to do.

But she was loyal to her love. And she would do anything to have it.

.

The atmosphere changed so quickly that Caithe felt it before she managed to comprehend what exactly had happened, and before even Faolain's expression had changed. She looked over her shoulder, time slowing down for her, to see Sariel's sword coming down towards her with massive force. Cadeyrn's panicked scream was in her ears, and then she felt a blow and tumbled over the edge of the stage to the side, into the dew-stained grass and murky earth. A whirl of purple magic dissolved in front of her, and slowly she realized she wasn't hurt. The crowd let out of screams of shock and terror, and a girl from the crowd ran towards Caithe to check if she was okay. Caithe paid her no heed, but scrambled back on her feet, a little wobbly still, to look back at the stage.

'Sariel,' Faolain's voice slashed through the clearing, and the crowd suddenly fell silent. It was as if the very air trembled with their collective shock, their fear, and slowly a feeling of a whole other order was taking over. Faolain took a step forward, her heel clicking on the stage, the sound unnatural and frightening to all of them.

Faolain breathed deeply, sparking her magic involuntarily in the palms of her hands. Caithe stood frozen, her eyes wide and fearful as Faolain soaked all of them in her disappointment, her anger, and her bloodlust. She had never, ever heard her lover make a sound like this, felt her like this. Suddenly Malomedies' description of a _dark feeling_ seemed like a mild, childish version of this. Caithe was terrified.

'I would never have been able to imagine that you, Sariel, that you would be the one to turn on me, to try take her away from me..' Faolain trailed off, her voice low, with a tremble in it that had not been there before. She took another step forward, the magic cackling and chirping with static and sparks. Sariel's eyes were wide, her face completely pale, she dropped her sword out of her hands and took a shivering step back, and then another one, and then turned to run-

Caithe thought for a moment that Sariel would get away. She had almost sighed in relief, but then a hissed whisper filled the air.

'I will kill you for your insolence.'

Caithe gasped, and jolted forward, but was too late. Faolain suddenly let all her magic run rampant, a purple whip of magic pulling Sariel back by her foot with brute force, tripping her and dragging her face across the stage. Faolain's eyes were wide and dilated as she threw Sariel around like a ragdoll, static flying and sparks setting fire to the space around her. Sariel screeched and howled, her hands holding her head and tears streaming down her face. Then Faolain threw her down and continued to fire spells at her, which made Sariel scream and writhe in agony, her mind drowning in visions of madness, of pain, pain that was very much real at this moment.

The crowd stood mortified, turned to stone in their disbelief, the waves of emotion tearing at their very souls. They could not cry, they could not speak, they could not even avert their eyes. They drowned in it, soaked it up and kept this darkness in their hearts. Faolain's heavy breathing was slowly being replaced by a repeating chant, that she kept uttering louder and louder, until she was screaming too, tears streaming down her face, still beating down on her student with all the force she had in her.

Something in her voice urged Caithe to move. Purely on instincts, she teleported back up the stage, appearing from shadows, behind Faolain. She wrapped both arms around her lover's chest and pulled her back, ignoring the pain from all her attacks flying around her. Faolain struggled against her, giving no sign of recognition, and trying to pull loose.

'I will kill her! _I will kill her_!' She kept screaming, and Caithe fought harder with every tug she gave. She cried back at Faolain, begging for her to stop, to listen, to come to her senses-

A sound slashed through the clearing again, only this time, no Sylvari was sure if they had really heard it. Had any non-Sylvari been watching at this moment, it would have seemed as if everything suddenly just stopped. It was the sound of a bond being cut, like the blades of sharp scissors running past each other, or the sound of a sword whirring through thin air. All Sylvari heard it. All Sylvari felt it in their hearts. Caithe recognized it, and felt fear overtake her mind.

Faolain had frozen in place, and now slumped down to her knees. Caithe closed her eyes, tears slowly trailing down, and then relaxed her arms and let her love fall down from her embrace.

.

Life was returning to the clearing. The Sylvari sat on the ground, gathered in small groups, holding hands or crying on each other's shoulders. The soft, gentle humming of many voices consoling each other did not reach the smoking stage, where the fires slowly died down. Sariel lay on the middle of the stage, her head hanging over the edge. She had fallen silent, breathing shallowly, her eyes open but she was barely conscious, barely aware of her surroundings. Her limbs were tangled and bent in awkward directions, and she was bleeding and burned. Behind her, Cadeyrn was frozen in his throne, his face paler than grey, shaking all over his body. He just stared at what was left of Sariel, now and then whimpering softly.

Caithe swallowed thickly. She was not surprised the Sylvari were so affected. Yet, she had felt this before, and could somehow still think somewhat clearly. She looked down at the slumped form in front of her, and tried to keep herself from bursting into tears. She had felt this before, when Riannoc was torn from the Dream. Caithe could now only fear that she was wrong.

Slowly she kneeled down, and picked Faolain up, turning her over so that they faced each other, and held her in her arms. Faolain's eyes were half closed, but then she reached up and ran her hand over Caithe's cheek, and let it trail down her chest, and onto her arm. Caithe trembled slightly, silently praying that she was just afraid, and that she had made a false conclusion. Yet the words Faolain uttered to her made her confirm her dreadful fear.

'Caithe,' Faolain said softly, her voice familiar and deep, but also hollow and fearful now, 'where are you?'

'I am right here, by your side, my love,' Caithe cried, sobs threatening to take her words away, 'just as I promised I would be.'

'I don't, I-I can't-' Faolain tried, trembling harder with each second that forced her to realize. 'I can't sense you, my love, I cannot-'

Caithe bent down, buried her face in her lover's shoulder and sobbed. Her fingers shook as she dug them into her lover's shoulderblades, pressing her against her chest, trying to keep her even closer.

'I'm so sorry,' Caithe whimpered, 'I should have protected you from yourself, I should have seen this, I'm so sorry, my love,' she trailed off, still trying to console both herself and the one in her arms.

Faolain had been severed from the Dream.

.

Canach slipped up the stage from the back, careful to make as little noise as possible. He rounded around the throne and kneeled by Cadeyrn's side, gently nudging him out of his shock and embracing him softly.

'Come on, Cadeyrn,' he whispered, 'you can't stay here.' He had his hand on Cadeyrn's shoulder, and his friend slowly turned his head and nodded at him. He had never seen Cadeyrn smile at him like that, as if he had just pulled him out of a deep icy lake. Canach nodded and stood up, leaving his friend for a moment.

Then, without a sound, he walked forward and picked up Sariel's limp body. She whined softly as he moved her, and he hushed her.

'It's okay, Sariel, it's me, Canach,' he said gently, carrying her back to where Cadeyrn stood, joined by a worried-looking Serame. Both of them were shaking.

'Let's go,' he said. Cadeyrn nodded solemnly. 'We must make haste.' Canach let his gaze fall on the woman in his arms. He felt her breathing, and he felt relieved. For a moment, he had thought they had lost her. 'She needs proper care.'

'Will she recover?' Serame asked quietly.

'I don't know,' Canach sighed. 'I don't recon she'll remain as she was before.' He looked at Cadeyrn, a mournful expression on his face. 'None of us will be.'

'I'll go ahead to get help,' Serame answered, jolting off.

Cadeyrn swallowed thickly. He cast his eyes down and nodded, seeking for the words to express what he felt. He was gratious, for Canach still being by his side. He felt guilt for Sariel's fate. And part of him wanted to regret what he had done.

And yet, he felt that this was the beginning. And once they started walking, he decided that this _was_ the beginning. As he embraced a darker future, Cadeyrn left the Dream.

Canach lost him, while standing next to him. He felt the stab go through his heart, his guts, but let it never show on his face. Sariel jerked at the feeling, too, but then relaxed again. Canach was alone, left in a Dream none of his friends shared.

.

A long night passed. The Sylvari had retreated to their homes, even those who had not attended the first Nightmare meeting. All Sylvari knew _something_ had happened, even if they could not figure out what exactly. They all felt anxious, they felt sadness that was not theirs. They were afraid of a shadow looming over them, but they did not know whose shadow it was.

Caithe lay in her bed, a trembling Faolain at her side. She could not sleep. It was as if a stranger was pressed against her, cold hands clamping onto her. Even if Faolain's voice was familiar, her scent, the feel of her skin against her own, she could not shake the images of the past day from her mind. The way Faolain had screamed, her eyes dilated, that bloodlust that Malomedies had sensed long ago.. Caithe was filled with regret over so many things. Time and time again she went over the things she could have done, should have done, should have seen but did not see, and every time it hurt her more.

'My love?' Faolain's soft voice sounded in the dark. Caithe turned her head towards the other, even if she couldn't see her.

'Faolain?'

'What are you thinking about?' Faolain asked, almost sighing. Caithe cringed.

'You don't know?'

'No, my love.' Faolain admitted. 'I am here, but you are in a whole other world. It's as if I am holding your lifeless corpse in my arms, I am talking to you, but I miss,' she hesitated for a moment, 'so many things.'

'How do you feel?' Caithe asked her. She swallowed, trying desperately to keep her calm.

'Blind. Crippled. Caged. And yet,' Faolain said, overthinking each word, 'in a way, free.'

'Free?' Caithe asked, propping herself up. Faolain raised behind her, slowly massaging Caithe's shoulders. Caithe could not stop the shivers from running down her back.

'I have defeated the Dream that shackled me. No Ventari, no rule shall restrain me now. I lost the Dream, but not you.' Caithe could hear she was smiling. 'You are still by my side. And once you get rid of your Dream, we will be whole again-'

'I don't want to lose my Dream, Faolain,' Caithe said, quietly. Faolain's hands slowly retreated from her shoulders.

'What?'

'My Dream is my calling. I must defeat an Elder Dragon.' Caithe said, and Faolain scoffed.

'My love, you know that that is madness-'

'I _will _find a way, Faolain.' Caithe interrupted, a little louder, and a little more determined. 'I thought you would be by my side when I did.'

'I will not stand by idly to see you be torn from this world, your life is far too precious for that, my love.'

'Don't call me that,' Caithe said, defeated. Faolain gasped quietly. 'I don't even recognize you,' Caithe continued, 'Why couldn't you just accept that there are rules, which should be followed? Find security in them?'

'I found security in _you_, Caithe!' Faolain exclaimed, 'My Dream was corrupted by these so-called rules, that would have gotten me killed! That will get you killed at this rate!' She roughly turned Caithe around and placed both her hands on her cheeks, forcing them to look at each other in the darkness. Caithe's cheeks were stained with tears.

'I would, no, I _have_ sacrificed everything for you.' Faolain whispered against Caithe's forehead, her breath warm on Caithe's skin. 'Everything I own, everything I am, I would give up to be with you.'

'But we _were_ together, Faolain, we were _entwined_!' Caithe sobbed back, grasping Faolain's wrists and moving the woman off of her. 'But you have sacrificed _me_ to be something you are not!'

It was silent for a moment. The sheets rustled, Caithe felt Faolain shake her head in disbelief.

'Caithe, what are you saying?' Faolain whispered, trying desperately to hold Caithe's face again, to stroke her, but the other held her off.

'You have changed, Faolain. You are not the person I loved, more than anything. That I shared my world with.'

'Caithe, please see reason! This separation is temporary!' Faolain called out, frustration and hurt breaking her voice. 'You will turn to Nightmare, and we will be together! That is how it must go!'

'I will not abandon the Dream!' Caithe yelled back.

'Caithe!' Faolain begged, but Caithe moved away from the bed, turning her back to the other. She rubbed her arms and shivered, even though it wasn't cold. The realization that Faolain could not know how she felt right now made her feel even colder. That Faolain never would again, she dared not even think about.

'Please leave,' Caithe said. It was silent. She sighed and repeated her command, a little louder. 'Leave, Faolain.'

'We are _far_ from through, my love.'

The sheets rustled, and soft footsteps betrayed that Faolain had gotten up. They moved towards Caithe, stopped, and then moved away. She disappeared in a flash of purple magic, shining on Caithe's red-rimmed eyes for a fraction of a second, in which they exchanged one last look. Those burning eyes looking at her, this last time, and then darkness took the room again.

Caithe cried, letting out all her pent-up sadness and fears. She was gone.

.

Canach bent over the bed where they had put Sariel. He cooled her forehead with some water, and carefully cleaned her wounds. She cringed and whimpered, obviously in a world of pain still. Cadeyrn paced at the other end of the room, wringing his hands, nervous and anxious. Normally he would have drawn off of Canach's calm, of his ability to remain collected, but now all he felt was Sariel's pain and suffering. He wanted to speak, to ask, but he couldn't.

Sariel suddenly jolted up, ignoring her pain, and clamping onto Canach.

'She's here! Canach! _Canach!_' she cried, digging her nails into her friend's arm. He was startled, trying to support her, but also trying to look over his shoulder to see what she was afraid of. Cadeyrn had turned pale again, a block of ice dumped in his stomach with the feeling that crashed into him like a wave.

Faolain did not bother to announce herself, she just appeared, ignoring Canach and Cadeyrn, walking straight past them. Cadeyrn made a soft squeaking sound, the feeling she emitted making his vision turn black, making his chest ache like nothing had ever done. Sariel cried out loud, wailing and trying to hold Canach closer, who, out of the three of them, was the only one still standing.

'Leave us,' Faolain hissed at him. Her eyes traveled over Cadeyrn as well. Canach slowly backed away, leaving Sariel trembling, and he picked up Cadeyrn and walked out.

'Sariel,' Faolain whispered, running her fingers over Sariel's wounded arm. She sighed, in relief or in sadness, it was unclear to Sariel. 'You are here.'

'I am at your side,' Sariel ground out, slowly reaching out to Faolain. She felt connected, so very close to her. Now that those eyes looked upon her again, she wanted to be afraid, but could not. She could only love her again, love her more, wanted to give all that she was to the Firstborn before her.

'You may kill me if you wish,' she said, slowly moving forward, resting her arms around Faolain's slender neck. When she felt no resistance, she rested her head on the other's shoulder, feeling her warmth, holding her close. Had she not been in pain, this would have been more than she had ever dreamed of.

'You are still at my side, my Sariel,' Faolain whispered, carefully holding her student. 'Promise me you will always be.'

'I will always be.'

'You will fight for me.'

'I will, my love!' Sariel cried, not caring about anything in this moment. Floating in the arms of one she'd thought she'd never touch, even if she overstepped her boundaries, death could not be more painful than this.

'You will die for me.' Faolain pressed on.

'I will!' the warrior vowed.

A silence fell over the two. Faolain nodded, solemnly. There were shards of the coldest ice in her heart, her soul torn to shreds. Sariel noted in the back of her mind how dull and dead her eyes looked. She even felt cold to the touch.

'Then we, at least, are not alone, Sariel.' Faolain said. The girl just rested against her.

_Someday, Caithe will see reason, and she will be mine again. _

_Someday soon. _


	18. Day's End

A/N: This is the final chapter. Thanks for the ride, the support and the input everyone, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I'll definitely keep on writing about these two. Thank you all so much for reading!

* * *

The morning air was thin, and chilly. For the first time, the dew on the grass in the Grove had crystallized into tiny beads of ice. Had this been any ordinary day, the Sylvari would have been out and about, playing in the field, experiencing this, but the Grove seemed empty and silent. Its inhabitants kept to their close friends, staying inside, speaking with hushed voices.

It was as if the cold reflected the chill that had been run through each beating heart in the area. Even those who had not heard the rumours, had felt the pain. And so they sought out the shelter of comfort and familiarity with their loved ones, and did not show themselves.

Footsteps shattered the virgin ice on the ground. Canach adjusted his backpack, and looked back at his home. He had left most of his belongings behind. Only the items that had held the most emotional value to him he had packed. Somehow, they all seemed to be connected to Cadeyrn in a way. In his left hand Canach held the letter he had received. It came an expensive looking envelope, and the elegant cursive in the top right corner read _Consortium_.

The path to Lion's Arch lay wide open before him. And yet, the only thing Canach could think of was the way Cadeyrn had been annoyed with him, every time he had mentioned the city. The way he hated him for thinking of leaving. He slowly shook his head. Cadeyrn had left before he did. And now they were worlds apart. His Dream pulled him away, to far places, but at least he would still be closer to home than Cadeyrn would ever be.

Next to Cadeyrn's bed, a cup and a bottle stood. Cadeyrn woke just to hear the sound of footsteps dying away, not yet realizing what it was. A small note was left with the items. As he picked it up, Cadeyrn noticed how empty the home was.

_Don't forget me, my friend._

.

One home in the Grove seemed to be emitting shadow, instead of its natural glow. A few brave saplings had come closer to find out what was going on, but none had dared to enter. They quickly parted when a tall Sylvari stepped forward and told them to leave. Kahedins followed close, and smiled at the scared younglings.

'Malomedies, be calm. They do no harm.' His lover looked back at him, a serious expression on his face.

'They will do no good either. ' Malomedies said, his voice stern. He would not soften on this matter. Kahedins sighed.

'You heard him. Come back later,' he said to the saplings, trying to be friendly, but still making his point clear. 'Caithe does not have time for you today.'

'What's wrong with her?' a sapling girl asked timidly. 'I can feel her grief,' she laid her hand on her chest, 'I can feel it ache!'

'We are here to sort that out. Now, to your homes.' Malomedies said, matter-of-factly. The girl shied away, and the other saplings slowly retreated with her. Once Malomedies was sure no unfamiliar eyes were cast on them, he opened the door and let himself and Kahedins in.

It was eerily silent in the home. Once the door closed, no light entered from outside. The emotions that lingered pressed heavily on their chests, and Malomedies felt Kahedins interlace their fingers. He squeezed them reassuringly. Then he called out softly, while Kahedins gently let go and stepped away.

'Caithe?'

No answer. Kahedins had lit a candle and came back to him, spreading a small trail of light in front of them. He led them towards the back, and around the corner into the bedroom. As he set down the candle, they could see Caithe's curled up form next to the bed. She had her knees pulled up and her head crooked to the side, resting on the mattress. She stared into nothing, sometimes quietly coughing or sobbing, but her tears had long ran dry. Kahedins kneeled next to her, gently picked her up, and set her on the bed. Malomedies sat down on the other edge, uncomfortably folding his hands. Kahedins had put an arm around Caithe and settled himself beside her, gently, carefully trying to shake her awake.

The first sound she made was something between a cough and a tormented wail. Kahedins immediately pulled her close again, and rocked her slowly. Malomedies' eyes were filled with sorrow at the sight of his friend in this state. He felt like he needed to say something, anything, but everything seemed useless and meaningless. He sighed. It was difficult to separate his own feelings from Caithe's. It would be easy to drown in her sorrow, heavily as it hung over them, but he could not let her influence him, if he wanted to help her.

'Where is she?' Caithe muttered against Kahedins chest. 'I want her to come back..'

Malomedies bit his lip. 'We were hoping you would know.' He exchanged worried looks with Kahedins. 'No one knows where she is.'

'I sent her away, I _sent her away.._' Caithe said, shaking her head, her body shuddering, but she was too exhausted to cry any more. 'And now she's gone, she will never come back, I am all alone..'

'We're here, Caithe,' Kahedins soothed her, but she did not even seem to hear him. She simply buried her face into his shoulder and let out another tormented wail.

'Caithe, what happened on that field?' Malomedies started carefully, ignoring the warning look Kahedins gave him. 'Why can't we come into contact with Faolain?' Caithe slowly sat up. She trembled, and still held on to Kahedins.

'I don't know,' she said slowly, rethinking the events once again, as she had done continuously since she had been alone. 'I was there. She was so, so, she was..' Caithe trailed off. Kahedins nudged her softly and she gathered her thoughts with a violent shake of her head.

'She was _happy._ In a way I had not seen her in a long time. And I was happy that she was happy. And then.. ' she paused again as the memories played before her mind's eye. 'Suddenly she pushed me away, and the next moment I was on the ground. And then she- she- she _snapped_.'

'Snapped?' Malomedies asked, and Caithe nodded.

'I-, no, there was magic everywhere. Her magic. And- oh, that Secondborn Sariel was screaming, screaming so awfully, I can still hear it. She had changed, I had never felt her like this, this murderous bloodlust, it just cannot have belonged to her! I tried to stop her, I held her, and I wanted her to be happy again, and I told her I would do anything, anything for her, but she did not listen,' Caithe's voice was growing more and more panicked as she recalled her painful memories, 'she just kept screaming with her broken voice and then- then she was gone.' Caithe held up her hands and stared at them, as if she had just dropped something fragile and it had shattered.

'Can it be?' Kahedins whispered. Malomedies' expression was thoughtful.

'She laid with me as she always did, but it was cold and strange,' Caithe continued, more to herself than the others. 'I could not read her. She was- she felt- _dead_,' she concluded slowly. Kahedins gasped softly.

'Riannoc. Oh, it felt exactly the same...' He said. Malomedies' eyes narrowed.

'Could she have been torn from the Dream?'

'Yes.' Caithe answered simply. She sadly stared at her hands, which lay folded in her lap.

'Then, maybe the Mother Tree could-'

'She said this was what she had always wanted.' Caithe interrupted him. Malomedies held his breath, and Kahedins just stared wide eyed at her. 'She wanted me to discard my Dream as well, and follow her..' Caithe curled up, sobbing again, 'but I was scared..' she whispered, and Kahedins protectively pulled her close again.

Malomedies' forehead was pulled into a frown as he thought deeply.

'This could be worse than we imagined.'

.

Sariel ran as fast as her broken body would carry her, following a trail of destruction through the forest.

'Faolain! Faolain, wait!' She cried out, not even sure how close the other was. It was like a giant tunnel had been burned through the forest, embers glowing on the ground, the highest leaves on the trees still smoking slightly. The contrast was sharp with the untouched, unharmed forest only a few steps to the side. The trail lead a few hundred metres farther, and then turned right. Trees blocked the view. Sariel caught her breath for a second, steadying herself, and prepared to start running again.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash in the distance, purple and burning, and heard the screams of agony directly after. She was close. Sariel gritted her teeth and started running in the direction of the commotion.

The seared leaves fizzled and let out thick twirling strings of smoke. The Firstborn stood amidst a small human convoy, or what was left of it. They lay on the ground, faces in the mud, blood splattered over their white armor. Faolain just heaved, staring at their dead faces. Then she laughed, out loud, ringing and menacing and bordering on insane.

Sariel approached her carefully. Faolain looked back at her over her shoulder, letting her eyes glide over Sariel for a second, then her expression softened. It was as if a barrier around her fell. Sariel reached for her, slowly sliding her arms around the Firstborn's shoulders and pressing her chest against her back, holding Faolain carefully. She was shaking. Sariel held her a little tighter, finding extreme comfort in her scent, the touch of her hands on her own, in feeling her open up to her, and sharing her sorrow.

'Caithe..' Faolain muttered. Sariel hushed her.

'They did not need to die. They are but humans.'

'They said she was above me,' Faolain whispered back, nodding at the dead woman in the middle. 'This mere human. Caithe would never have accepted that.'

'Caithe is not here, Faolain,' Sariel tried. It just made Faolain tremble even worse. She then let her gaze glide over the humans. The woman in the middle had an expensive looking garb, and figuring she'd had an escort, she must have been someone important.

'Who was she?' Sariel asked.

'Some Duchess of something, Ebonhawke, I believe,' Faolain muttered. 'Some human... Where is Caithe?'

'Well, she wasn't worth much, was she?' Sariel immediately tried to steer the other's thoughts in another direction again. 'You _are_ better than her.'

'Yes,' Faolain agreed. 'She was in the way.'

'You should have a title too, Firstborn,' Sariel flirted, pressing them closer together. She slowly caressed Faolain's face, letting her fingers glide over her cheek, then pushed her chin to make their gazes meet. 'So that I can worship you.' Slowly, a conceited smile spread over Faolain's face as she leaned in. Sariel could feel her breath as their lips inched closer. She instinctively closed her eyes, her heart beating faster-

'Don't make me kill you too,' Faolain whispered against her lips, her voice as deadly as it was seductive. Sariel's eyes jolted open and she scrambled back, gasping for air. Her face had become pale in a split second.

'But you are right!' Faolain said, out loud this time, and she almost looked light-hearted. 'I _do _need a title.' She kicked the dead body with her heel. It made a slurping sound as it sank into the mud.

'Well, you killed a Duchess, my lady,' a boyish voice sounded from the other end of the path. Sariel looked over to see Cadeyrn carefully scuffling closer. He stopped a few strides away from them, looking from one woman to the other, carefully analyzing if he would be hurt or not. Faolain smiled widely at him.

'Cadeyrn! How nice of you to join us after you _ruined everything!'_ Her voice dropped, and she walked towards him, elegantly sliding around him and wrapping an arm around his neck, almost strangling him. He gasped and paled, quickly looking for a way out but finding himself too scared to move. Sariel's injured body flashed before his mind's eye, together with the slaughtered humans before him, and he swallowed thickly.

'I was just saying, my lady,' he said, sugar-coating wherever he could, 'since you killed her, you could have her title - no, yours should be higher than hers, you see-' he stuttered, thoughts racing. He intended to just keep talking, to hopefully distract the Firstborn from ending him then and there.

'You are way elevated above her, of course, my Firstborn,' he turned his head, trying to loosen her grip and look her in the eye. 'You are at least a Duchess, you are a- are a _Grand_ Duchess, Firstborn. The Grand Duchess of my Nightmare Court!'

She grinned, and slowly let go of him. Her chuckles died down into snickers, and then turned into sobs.

'Well, isn't that just great?' she sneered, irony and venom dripping from her voice. 'Then I have _everything!_ Everything I ever wanted! I am the Grand Duchess of the Nightmare Court!' She twirled around over the dead bodies. Cadeyrn coughed softly and calmly tried to correct her.

'_My_ Night-' Sariel punched him in gut, making him double over. He quickly rethought what he had meant to say. 'Y-yes. Your Nightmare Court.'

'Why isn't Caithe at my side?' Faolain exclaimed accusingly. Then she suddenly stopped and grasped her arms, clenching herself, like a lost child. 'The moment I lost my Dream.. I thought she did too. But she didn't. And mine.. my Nightmare became reality. I am living in this cursed waking Dream that should have been the solution to everything!' She whispered, at no one in particular. Sariel stepped forward, reaching out for her again, but she pulled away.

'Find Caithe, Sariel,' Faolain whispered. 'Find her for me. She is so far away from me. I miss her... _so much_...'

'Shall I bring her here, Faolain?' Sariel asked tenderly. She wanted to feel ache, to feel jealousy, but it was as if her heart had gone numb from all feelings except love. She could only love the Firstborn before her for tormenting her, not hate or resent her. It was strangely comforting.

'No. Just find her. I must know if she also feels this pain,' Faolain said, suddenly stopping as the realization hit her then again, and Sariel saw her pupils dilate and her breath hitch. 'I cannot _sense_ her, she is not, she is not-' She desperately dropped to her knees, pulling Sariel with her. She kneeled next to her, simply holding Faolain in her arms. Cadeyrn sat not far away from them, terrified, trying his hardest not to make a sound.

'Find her, Sariel, my sweet,' Faolain whispered, and Sariel nodded dutifully. She stood up, nodding at Cadeyrn to follow her. They left the Firstborn kneeled in the mud, sinking corpses staining her dress with mud, blood and guts.

For a while, Faolain listened to the forest quietly breathing. She looked around, and even though the sun shone brightly, it was cold, and everything seemed dull and grey. Then she rose, and turned around. She faced an overgrown clearing, separated by a shallow hill. The burned treetrunk that had once lain here had been completely covered in vines and other weeds. Faolain idly ran her hand over it.

'Even from death something may grow again,' she said, digging her nails into the mossy trunk. 'Eventually. In time.' She stood, staring into the distance, her thoughts racing but her body perfectly still, making her blend in to the environment perfectly. Finally, she broke down, and allowed herself to cry, to admit to her sorrow, her terrible feeling of loss. She washed all her desperation away, finally secluded, finally alone.

'Caithe, on this place where we started,' she then started quietly, slowly, looking up at the splintered tree stump that had remained standing. 'I vow we shall not end, for I will be by your side. Your love will grow again, and we shall be-' she breathed in. Birds chirped above her. 'We shall be together once more. Forever more.'

She lowered herself down, and slumped against the trunk, folding her legs under her. 'I promise you, my love. No Dreamer, no Dragon will keep you away from me, no matter how many I must kill, how many stand in the way..

I have become Nightmare to free you, and I will make you see reason. I vow it to you here, Caithe.

My love, we are far from through.'

.

_I see days turning to months, and months turning to years, _Caithe scribbled idly on a piece of paper. She did not keep a diary, but more a book of sorts, which was basically a tool for her to sort her thoughts. By thinking about how to word a certain feeling, she would understand it better, and come to accept it. She never read her old entries, but kept them safe, just in case. Somehow throwing them away felt just as wrong as reading them, so she just stored them in a by now rather large folder. It was a habit that had grown over time, as she spent more and more time alone.

_Soon, I will leave the Grove again, after all this time. _She tapped her pen on her desk, deep in thought, wondering how she felt about this exactly.

_Although I am excited to venture outside this forest again- _Caithe stopped. There were many things that could follow that sentence, and they were all equally important. It was just that she did not want to face all of them. She sighed, then wrote further.

_Although I am excited to venture outside this forest again, the thought of leaving the protection of the Grove into the Warden's hands still makes me nervous. I trust them, but this will be their first mayor task, and I will not be here to help them. _Caithe bit down on her pen. Her train of thoughts was diving into depths better left unexplored. Then again, it would be meaningless to stop now, and start over.

_The Nightmare Court will inevitably strike again. I shudder when I see familiar faces suddenly turning so twisted. I could never have imagined any Sylvari to be like they are, so cruel and heartless to anyone around them. Even amongst themselves they are wicked, and torture each other. They believe a life has no more value than the duration of its agony._

_It will be a heavy burden on the Wardens. The Courtiers they can handle, I am sure of this, _Caithe stopped again, rubbing her temples, trying to focus.

'If only she doesn't appear,' she sighed, throwing down her pen and running her fingers through her hair. There were days where she wrote multiple pages in a row, but today, she felt her thoughts drifting off towards the one thing she did not want to think about. She took a few deep breaths, and then with a sigh, picked up her pen again.

_I am sure of this, as long as she doesn't appear. There is no telling what F-_ Caithe abruptly stood up and left her desk, walking slowly towards the window. She smiled sadly, wincing at how pathetic her behaviour was.

'After all this time, I still cannot even bear to speak her name,' she sighed, talking to herself because there was no one to hear. Caithe had gotten used to being alone, gotten fond of it, but at times like these, it seemed as if the broken connection was still an open, bleeding wound.

A soft knock on the door shook Caithe from sorrowful thoughts and sad memories. She looked up, to see a young Valiant with a beaming smile, holding a package in brown paper.

'Firstborn Aife sent you this from Divinity's Reach,' the sapling said, happily handing over the package. 'I think it's a book! Isn't that just cherry?'

'Thank you,' Caithe said with a small smile. The sapling stalled for a moment to see if Caithe would unpack the package in front of her, but when she didn't, she politely greeted the Firstborn and walked outside. Caithe heard her voice die away as she rejoined her friends.

'Thorns, now I did not get to see what it was..'

An amused smile on her face, Caithe tore away the paper. It was indeed a book, bound in brown, elegantly decorated leather. The title on the front was coloured golden, written in an overly swirly font.

'_Long-distance Relationships, 10 ways to make it work,_' Caithe read aloud, wondering what could possibly have convinced Aife to buy this book, and then send it to her. She rested her hand on the cover for a moment, dumbfounded, debating whether she would read it, or, as seemed the far better option, just discard the book somewhere.

'It's not like she is just _far away_, she is- she is absolutely lost,' Caithe stuttered, still completely abashed by the book. Then slowly, a smile formed on her face. 'Well, if you look at it that way...' Reluctantly, Caithe opened the book and started reading.

'If my way does not work, perhaps one of the other nine will,' she snickered. And yet something in her eyes glistened, a spark of hope that had not been there before.

'I guess it doesn't hurt to try..'

_And I will keep trying._

_Until we get it right._


End file.
